Titanic
by HorrorFan6
Summary: Wealthy young Hinrik Haddock's world is turned upside down when he meets steerage passenger Astrid Hofferson aboard the RMS Titanic. Defying all societal expectations and his snobbish fiancee, he soon finds himself falling in love with the fiery young woman. But when the Titanic strikes an iceberg and starts to sink, their leisurely voyage turns into a fight for survival.
1. Prologue

**A/N: All right, here it is. The start of my newest (and perhaps most ambitious) project: a retelling of Cameron's **_**Titanic **_**with the HTTYD characters. I promise I will try to be as historically accurate as possible while also giving respect to the true story of the **_**Titanic **_**disaster. **

**Some portions of this story are inspired by and/or based on a similar treatment written by UnderTheWillowTrees. I will be giving her due credit throughout the story. Thanks again for letting me borrow some of your ideas! **

**This is dedicated to the 1500 people lost when the **_**Titanic**_** sank, as well as to the 700 who survived to tell their story. You have not been forgotten. **

**HTTYD belongs to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks SKG.**

_**Titanic **_**the movie belongs to 20****th**** Century Fox.**

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

- "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost

Prologue

Monday, April 15, 1912

_How did I end up here? _

It was a natural question to ask himself, he figured. After all, it wasn't every day you ended up clinging desperately to the rail of a sinking ship. Especially when the ship in question was the biggest, most luxurious, and supposedly safest ship on the ocean. Yet here he was all the same.

And he wasn't alone. All around him, hundreds of screaming and crying passengers and crew clambered toward the stern rising slowly out of the water. And to think that just a few hours earlier they'd been sailing along smoothly, not even the glimmer of a threat on the horizon. These people who had so calmly eaten their dinner and gone to bed without any care in the world were now on the brink of panic, looking death in the face as the great ship sank steadily lower and lower. It was only a matter of time, now. Minutes, perhaps. Then she would disappear forever, taking who knew how many people with her.

At least the lights were still burning, the only illumination in the pitch-black night. There was no moon, only a sky full of stars that sparkled and glowed in the sky, reflecting off the ice that littered the sea around the dying ship. Apart from the people in the twenty or so lifeboats drifting about, there wasn't another living soul in sight. They were all alone in the frigid waters of the North Atlantic.

He felt a pressure on his hand as someone squeezed it. Either seeking comfort or offering it, he didn't know which. He squeezed back just as uncertainly and shifted position, using his other hand to grip the rail tighter. The deck was so steeply slanted that one wrong move and he'd go sliding down into oblivion. He didn't know what his chances were should that happen and he didn't care to find out.

The lights suddenly flickered, flashed, and went out. They did not reignite. "Oh God!" someone gasped.

_God_, he thought. _What was it they had said? "God Himself could not sink this ship"? _

They were wrong. So very wrong.

A great metallic roar rent the night, the sound of a ship in the final act of dying. It was so loud it overpowered the screams of the other people on board. _This is it_, he thought, gripping both the rail and the hand in his tighter. _She's going. In a few minutes, she will be gone. _

_And soon after that, so will I. _


	2. Chapter 1: Southampton

**A/N: All right, just to clear things up, as this story takes place in 1912 and is based on a true event, I have changed some of the characters' names to make it more believable. I think you'll be able to figure out who's who, but I'll provide this little key anyway: **

**Hinrik = Hiccup**

**Stanford = Stoick **

**Milton = Mildew**

**Riley = Ruffnut**

**Terry = Tuffnut**

**Gunnar = Gobber**

**Sven = Snotlout**

**Finnick = Fishlegs **

**Astrid and Heather keep their names. **

Chapter One

Southampton

Wednesday, April10, 1912

The first thing that struck twenty-year-old Hinrik Haddock about the ship was its sheer size. From where he sat inside the car, practically pressing his nose to the window to get a good look, it was impossible to see from one end of the vessel to the other. They were too close to get a full picture.

In the seat beside him, his father Stanford chuckled. "Isn't she something?" he asked. Though born an American, he spoke with his parents' Scottish accent.

Hinrik's emerald eyes flickered for a second to his father before returning to the massive ship moored at the Southampton dock. "Yes," he agreed. "She's…she's big." It was a massive understatement, but he couldn't quite come up with the words to appropriately describe his reaction to seeing the ship that was to take him home.

Stanford nodded. "Aye. Biggest ever built. Almost nine hundred feet long and eleven stories tall, she is."

Hinrik looked away from the window and met his father's eyes. They were so different, this father-son pair. Where Stanford was big and beefy, Hinrik was small and thin. Stanford had a huge red beard streaked with gray, Hinrik was clean-shaven. Stanford's smile was genuine and full of excitement, Hinrik's was rather forced.

"Nine hundred feet long?" Hinrik repeated. "She's even bigger than the _Mauretania_."

Stanford nodded again. "Aye, she is. And far more luxurious too, from what I've heard. A veritable floating palace, she is." He reached out and opened the car door. "Well come on, son. Best be moving. She'll be leaving soon."

Hinrik suppressed a sigh and climbed out of the car behind his father, turning his head and brushing his auburn hair out of his face to look once again at the ship. In the open air it was a little easier to get a feel of the thing's size. He had to crane his neck to see the four giant buff-colored funnels, squinting in response to the light reflecting off her metal superstructure. Eyes roving across her hull, he saw the name TITANIC printed in bright gold letters across her bow. For a long moment Hinrik could do nothing but stare at the great liner. She wasn't just another ship; she had a presence. It was as though she was alive, sitting high atop her throne while all the common folk mingled beneath her, not worthy of her notice.

His musings were interrupted by Stanford, who cleared his throat pointedly. Looking around, Hinrik saw him subtly bobbing his head toward a second car that had pulled in behind their own.

_Oh. Right. _

Hinrik hurried over to the car and opened the door, holding out his hand. A moment later, another, smaller hand rested in his palm. Attached to this hand was a beautiful black-haired woman with piercing green eyes that were cold as stone. She stepped elegantly out of the car and huffed, "Goodness, Hinrik, could you be any slower?"

Hinrik barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Sorry, dear," he murmured.

The woman sighed and linked her arm in his, and together they looked up again at the _Titanic_. "Isn't she marvelous, darling?" she sighed.

"Yes, Heather, she is," Hinrik agreed with no conviction in his voice.

If Heather Owens noticed his lack of enthusiasm, she decided not to comment. She looked back at the man that was climbing out of the car she had just vacated. "Look, Father. Isn't she the most beautiful ship you've ever seen?"

"Yes, my dear," Grant replied, barely glancing at the ship as he smiled dotingly at his daughter. "She's a sight. I understand she's quite safe, too. They say she's unsinkable. God Himself can't sink this ship."

Hinrik frowned at the arrogance of Grant Owens's words but said nothing.

Behind Grant was the Owens' aged valet Milton, a stooped old man with wispy white hair and a mustache. He carried his trusty walking stick with him at all times, though he didn't really need it. "The luggage, sir?" he asked Grant in his wheezy voice.

"Oh, find one of the porters," Grant instructed. "Tell them where to put it all."

As Milton bowed and obeyed his employer, Hinrik followed his father toward the gangplank. His fiancée clung tightly to his arm, and even though he desperately wanted to tell her to loosen her grip he kept his mouth shut. _Remember why you're doing this_, he chastised himself. _Don't forget. You need to make her happy, even if it makes you miserable. Mother is counting on you. _

They passed by a queue of people in shabby clothes being given inspections for lice. The steerage passengers, most of them immigrants looking for a better life in America. Standing next to them in his immaculate suit, Hinrik felt distinctly uncomfortable.

Heather was uncomfortable too, but for distinctly different reasons. She grimaced. "Oh that smell," she whispered loud enough for several people to hear her. "Don't these people bathe?"

Hinrik took a deep breath to calm himself, casting an apologetic look at some of the steerage passengers who glared openly at Heather as she stalked past, her nose in the air. He wanted so badly to snap at her, to tell her that his own mother had been an immigrant and that being poor didn't make one less human. But he held his tongue as they approached the gangplank that led them into the ship.

"Welcome aboard," said the crewman who greeted them at the gangway. Hinrik nodded in acknowledgement and looked around the lavish interior of the vessel. _It's a prison_, he thought. _A fancy, lavish prison. A slave ship carrying me back to America in golden chains. _

Heather's grip on his arm didn't loosen once.

…

Hinrik's proximity to the _Titanic _didn't allow him to get a good look at the whole ship, but Astrid Hofferson, glancing up out the window of a nearby pub, could see the whole gigantic liner sitting at her dock. Her heart gave a bound and she suppressed a smile, returning her eyes to her cards. If she played this right, she may very well get a closer look at the ship. A much closer look.

She brushed her blond hair out of her sapphire eyes and looked to her left. Her friend Riley Thorston was frowning down at the cards in her hand as though they had personally offended her. Directly across the table from Astrid, Riley's twin Terrence looked thoroughly confused, and Astrid had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Terry was utterly hopeless at poker. He could never remember which combinations were worth more than others. The fourth and final person at their table was a scruffy-looking man with a dirty smudge on his cheek. He was sweating profusely, and it was no surprise as to why. His wife was standing over his shoulder, glaring daggers down at him while she kept one hand firmly on the shoulder of their young son, who watched the game with bemused interest. In the middle of the table, amid the coins, a few pieces of paper currency, a pocket watch, and a penknife. Atop all this sat three sheets of paper. They didn't look like much, but they were what everyone at the table really wanted to win: third class tickets for the RMS _Titanic_.

"You foolish man," the woman hissed to her husband. "You foolish, foolish man. How could you bet our tickets? Those are our way to a new life and you throw them aside like they're trash!"

"Hush!" the man snarled, his cheeks coloring. "I know what I'm doing!"

Astrid's lips quirked but she showed no other sign that she'd heard the exchange. She looked again out the window as a loud whistle tore through the air, audible even through the pub's window. It was the warning signal. The _Titanic _would be leaving soon. "All right," she said in a businesslike voice, looking around at her companions. "Moment of truth. Riley?"

She looked to her blond-haired friend, who tossed her cards to the table in disgust. "Nothing," she huffed. "Big fat goose egg."

Astrid nodded, her face impassive, and looked over at Riley's twin. "Terry?"

"Uh…" Terry laid his cards out. "One pair?"

Riley put her head in her hand, apparently praying for strength. Astrid fought to keep her face expressionless as she turned to the other man. "And you, Mr. Hickman?"

Mr. Hickman revealed his cards with a grin of triumph. Astrid's small grin flickered. "Oh. Two pair." She sighed and looked at her friend. "I'm sorry, Riley."

"Are you kidding me?!" Riley burst out angrily. "We bet everything we have and now you're telling me—"

"I'm telling you," Astrid interrupted, her smile returning, "that you and Terry aren't going to be seeing your mother again for a long time." Riley blinked, her face going slack. Mr. Hickman's grin vanished while Astrid's face broke in pure joy. She slammed her hand down on the table and crowed, "Because we're going to America! Full house!"

Riley and Terry both jumped up, whooping in joy as Astrid began scooping their winnings into her bag. Mr. Hickman's mouth opened and closed like a fish's as he saw his family's tickets to America snatched away.

"You idiot!" Mrs. Hickman shrieked, and her husband flinched as her hand struck him over the head. "You idiot! You just blew our only chance at a new life! I hope you're satisfied!"

"It's okay," Riley offered, taking her ticket from Astrid and giving the paper a kiss. "I'm sure he'll get lucky someday." Both Hickmans scowled at her but she didn't seem to notice or care.

"Wa-hoo!" Terry whooped, jumping onto his chair, his long blond hair swinging wildly. "I'm going to America, baby!"

"Actually, mate," the pub keeper spoke up, gesturing back to the clock behind the bar, "_Titanic_'s going to America. In five minutes."

All celebrating abruptly ceased. "Shit," Astrid gasped, seizing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Come on, you two!"

The trio darted from the pub as fast as their feet could carry them and ran toward the dock. Soon they were running alongside the mighty liner, weaving around people who were waving up to loved ones on the decks. They made it to the third class gangplank just as the officer was detaching it from the door. "Wait!" Astrid cried, waving her ticket in the air. "We're passengers! We're passengers!"

She skidded to a stop at the end of the gangplank and showed the officer her ticket. He glanced at it once before asking, "Have you been through the inspection queue?"

"Of course," Astrid said, sounding offended that he would even think she had lice.

"Queue? What's a queue?" Terry asked, and Riley stepped on his foot. "Ow!"

The officer frowned but apparently decided not to press the issue. "Right. Come aboard, then." He held out his hand to assist them, but Astrid leapt the short span of distance between the gangplank and the ship without aid. Terry accepted the officer's help, as did Riley, the latter holding the officer's hand longer than was strictly necessary and offering him a seductive smile. The officer blinked but before he could say anything the three friends had taken off down the crowded corridor.

"We are the luckiest sons of half-trolls in the world!" Astrid called back as she made her way toward a staircase. A few minutes later she, Riley, and Terry had emerged into open air once more, standing at the rail amid the other steerage passengers all waving good-bye to England. "Bye!" she cried, waving enthusiastically as the _Titanic _began to slowly move away from the dock. "Good-bye!"

"Do you know someone down there?" Terry inquired.

Astrid huffed. "Of course not, but that's not the point!" And without further explanation she resumed her waving and cheering. _Good-bye England, and good riddance! I'm on my way to America! I'm finally going back home!_

Up on the A Deck promenade, Hinrik stood with Heather, Stanford, and Grant. They were also waving and calling out to the people below, except for Hinrik, who merely gazed down at the dock slipping past with increasing speed. There was no turning back now. He was on his way back to America and nothing could alter his course. His heart felt sick with the knowledge and he couldn't muster up the desire to wave like his father and fiancée, who were too busy to notice his inner turmoil.

The _Titanic_, aided by a collection of tugboats,pulled away and turned into a small channel that led to the open sea. There were a number of ships lining the riverbank, some containing more people who continued to wave as the greatest ship of her time began her maiden voyage.

Without warning, there was a series of loud reports, like gunshots. Several people cried out in alarm and looked around for the source of the sound. "Look! Look there!" someone called, and Hinrik followed their pointing finger down to the closest of the ships anchored beside them. She had broken free of her moorings and was being drawn toward the _Titanic _by the suction caused by the bigger ship's wake. Hinrik felt his heart miss a beat as the ship, the _New York_, drifted free, her stern swinging inexorably toward them. His hands clenched on the rail. A collision was imminent.

"They're going to hit!" Stanford cried, and Heather gasped, clutching Hinrik's arm in a vice grip.

Then, just as it seemed certain that the _New York _and the _Titanic _would crash, a tugboat appeared, her crew securing lines to the drifting ship and pulling it aside at the last possible second. A collective sigh of relief went up among _Titanic_'s passengers as the crisis was averted.

"That was a close shave, wasn't it?" Grant asked with a faint chuckle.

"Too close," Heather agreed. "Can you imagine what would have happened if they'd hit? We'd have had to book passage on a different ship. What a hassle that would have been!"

Hinrik rolled his eyes, making sure his head was turned so that no one could see. He heard someone snort and turned to face an old man shaking his head, looking down at the _New York _being pulled out of the _Titanic_'s path. "It's a bad omen," he muttered, apparently to himself. "It's bad luck for something like this to happen at the start of the maiden voyage."

With that, he turned and walked away, still shaking his head. Hinrik watched him go, frowning. What did he mean? A bad omen? Surely that was just superstitious nonsense. After all, a ship the size of the _New York _couldn't really harm the mighty _Titanic_. There was nothing at all to worry about.

Right?

**A/N: And yes, the near-collision with the **_**New York **_**really happened. I'm rather surprised none of the movies show it, it seems like such a great opportunity for foreshadowing. But oh well. Hope you're enjoying it so far! **

**Thanks again to UnderTheWillowTrees for letting me borrow her concept of Heather as Hiccup/Hinrik's fiancée. **


	3. Chapter 2: Open Sea

Chapter Two

Open Sea

The incident with the _New York _delayed the voyage, so the _Titanic _was an hour late arriving at Cherbourg, France, that evening. The little port was much too small for a ship the size of the massive new liner, so she anchored offshore while two tenders ferried the passengers from the mainland to the ship. Curiosity drew many people to the decks to watch the newcomers board. The sea was rather rough, and the boats were bobbing rather alarmingly in the water alongside the _Titanic_, which was so sturdy that it was easy to forget she was a ship and not a small island.

Hinrik stood between his father and Heather, looking down at the boarding passengers with mild interest. He suddenly straightened as his eyes fell on a bald head. The body attached to it was big and burly, and the man sported a huge golden mustache and a slight limp. "Father," he said, pointing at the man, "isn't that Gunnar Benton?"

Stanford followed his gaze and frowned for a moment. Then his face cleared. "By God, I think it is!" he said, and without another word he turned and hurried back into the ship. Hinrik followed closely, practically dragging a confused Heather behind him.

They came to a stop at the base of the grand staircase, where they came face-to-face with the burly mustached man. His face lit up on seeing them. "Stanford!" he called jovially, his accent even thicker than that of his friend. He hurried forward and embraced Stanford in a tight hug. "It's been too long!"

Stanford laughed and pulled back. "Indeed it has, Gunnar. I didn't know you were in France."

Gunnar shrugged. "Yeah, thought I'd check it out, see what all the fuss is about." He held up one hand as if to share a secret and added, "Between you and me, it's not all it's cracked up to be."

Stanford chuckled and gestured back toward Hinrik, who stepped forward, smiling. Gunnar looked stunned. "Hinrik?!" he gasped. "My God, you've grown! Last I saw you, you were a talking fishbone!"

Hinrik laughed, mildly surprised at how easily the sound bubbled forth from his chest. "It's good to see you again, Gunnar," he said, shaking the hand of the man who had been like a second father to him as a child. "How have you been?"

"Oh fine, can't complain," Gunnar replied airily. "How about you?"

Hinrik opened his mouth to say, "I'm all right," but the words died on the way to his mouth. It was a lie. He wasn't all right. Not even close. "Oh, well, you know," he said vaguely. "The same, I guess."

Gunnar's smile seemed to flicker for a moment, but it was back so quickly that Hinrik couldn't be sure. "Well this is going to be a much better voyage than I thought, with you two aboard," he said. "I'm sure we'll all have great fun."

Hinrik nodded, but before he could speak he heard someone clear her throat pointedly from behind him. He glanced back and saw Heather watching the exchange with raised eyebrows. Hinrik felt his heart sink slightly.

"Heather," he said, taking her arm, "this is Gunnar Benton, an old friend of my family's. He's kind of like my favorite uncle."

Heather smiled sweetly, though the expression didn't reach her eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Benton." Gunnar nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"And Gunnar," Hinrik continued, "this is Heather Owens, my fiancée."

Gunnar's jaw dropped. "Fiancée?" he repeated, and then he laughed. "God Above, travel the world a little and everything changes behind your back!"

Hinrik laughed again, though it didn't sound quite so natural this time.

"Heather's father is accompanying us," Stanford spoke up. "I believe he is in the dining saloon."

"Perfect!" Gunnar said, clapping his hands together. "I'm starving. Let's go."

"Yes, let's," Heather agreed, turning with her arm still locked in Hinrik's. "Come on, dear."

Gunnar caught the barest hint of a scowl on Hinrik's face as he turned to walk with his fiancée toward the saloon. It had flitted across his features so fast that it may not have been there at all. But Gunnar knew Hinrik well enough to recognize that he was covering up some pretty extreme emotions.

"So," he said conversationally, falling in beside Stanford as they followed the young couple, "when did this happen? The engagement?"

"About a month ago," Stanford replied. "They met at a party and hit it off from the start."

"A month?" Gunnar repeated. "Seems like a short amount of time. Is Hinrik sure about all this?"

Stanford shrugged unconcernedly. "You know how he is, Gunnar. A hopeless romantic. He insisted he didn't want to wait another minute before asking her to be his bride."

Gunnar frowned. Hopeless romantic? Yes, he could see that. But Heather wasn't at all the kind of person he'd imagine Hinrik might have fallen in love with. He'd only just met her but he could tell that she was stiff and cool, whereas Hinrik was easygoing and relaxed. Surely this wasn't a good match. What was Hinrik thinking?

This question plagued Gunnar throughout dinner, though he didn't dare ask it aloud. All evening long he kept sneaking glances at Hinrik when the young man thought no one was looking at him, and it was easy to see that his affections for Heather were merely a false front, and not a very convincing one at that.

So what was the boy really up to?

…

The _Titanic _stopped at Queenstown, Ireland, the next morning to pick up her final load of passengers, and at 1:30 that afternoon she raised her anchor for the last time and set sail toward New York, with nothing ahead of them but open ocean. Ireland slowly shrank until it was no more than a speck on the horizon, and soon after it disappeared altogether. The sun shone brightly, reflecting off the crystal blue waters beneath them as the ship cut through the sea like a hot knife through butter.

Emerging from the third class common area below, Astrid and Riley bounded up the stairs and ran to the very bow of the ship. Astrid inhaled deeply, reveling in the salty smell of the sea air that filled her lungs. "Good-bye Ireland, and hello Atlantic!"

Riley laughed and leaned over the rail. "Wow, we're really moving fast!" she remarked, watching as the prow cut through the water, sending up white spray.

"Yeah," Astrid agreed, following her gaze. "At this rate, we'll reach America in no time!" She suddenly gasped and pointed. "Look! A dolphin!" Sure enough, a dolphin was swimming just ahead of the ship as it steamed westward, just managing to keep pace with the liner's speed. Suddenly another appeared, and another, and another. Soon there was a whole pod of five or six dolphins darting before them, crisscrossing in front of the leviathan that seemed right at home with them. One of them, the first one Astrid had spotted, rose to the surface and leapt from the water. "Wow!" Astrid breathed as she watched it descend once more. It had barely reentered the water before it jumped again, crying out apparently for the simple joy of doing so.

Feeling elated, Astrid jumped up so that her feet rested on the lowest rail. She whooped in delight as the wind tossed her blond braid back, blowing her hair out of her face.

"I can see the Statue of Liberty already!" Riley said, pointing toward the horizon. "It's very small, of course," she added with a faint laugh.

Usually a joke like that would have made Astrid roll her eyes. But she was feeling so excited and euphoric that she just laughed. Then she flung her arms out to the side and yelled at the top of her lungs, "I'm the queen of the world!"

Riley looked up at her and shook her head. "You're the queen of the Funny Farm is what you are."

Astrid reached down and punched Riley on the arm, but her smile never faded. "Well it's thanks to this queen that we're even here."

Riley nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm…good point." Then she bowed and added, "Your Majesty."

Her cheek earned her another punch to the arm.

…

While Astrid and Riley enjoyed their freedom on the prow of the ship, Hinrik was seated in the Palm Court Restaurant thoroughly wishing he was anywhere else in the world.

"I understand that she's the largest moving object made by the hand of man in all history," Gunnar was saying from across the table, addressing the table at large. "Is that right?"

"Yes," Grant confirmed, nodding. "And by far the most luxurious. The White Star Line offers comfort that no other company can provide. Oh sure, Cunard ships have the advantage of speed, but you won't find a swimming pool on board the _Lusitania_."

"And she's sturdy, too," Stanford contributed. "On most ships you sway back and forth till you're seasick. But on this ship, it's like being on dry ground."

A waiter arrived to take their orders. Hinrik opened his mouth to speak, but Heather cut swiftly across him. "We'll both have the grilled mutton chops." Then, almost as an afterthought, she turned to Hinrik and asked, "You like mutton, right darling?"

Hinrik, not trusting his voice, offered her a tight-lipped smile. Gunnar watched the exchange with raised eyebrows. "Are you going to cut his meat for him too there, lass?" he asked with a chuckle.

Heather scowled at him and Hinrik's face reddened. Gunnar cleared his throat and abruptly changed the subject. "So…why the name _Titanic_? What does it mean?"

"I expect it's because of her size," Stanford mused before turning to give his order to the waiter.

"Yes, she's certainly big enough to earn the name," Grant chuckled.

"She's actually named after the Titans of Greek mythology," Hinrik spoke up, glad to actually be discussing something he was interested in. The others all turned to look at him as he continued, "The Titans were godlike beings that challenged the gods on Mount Olympus for total power. They were defeated and, for their arrogance, cast down into the underworld for eternity. So really, naming a ship after the Titans probably isn't the best idea. It's like a slap in the face of God, the ultimate act of arrogance…" He faltered, suddenly embarrassed. He hadn't meant to go that far. He'd meant to merely give an explanation of the Titans, not condemn the men who had built and named her.

The others were all silent in surprise. Heather was glaring at him and Grant looked disapproving. Stanford had his face hidden in his hand, though Hinrik couldn't tell if this was out of embarrassment or to hide his amusement. Gunnar, on the other hand, was chuckling.

Feeling his ears go red, he muttered quickly, "Excuse me," and rose from the table, walking to the exit as fast as he dared go.

"That boy needs to learn his place," Grant huffed once Hinrik was out of earshot.

Gunnar was still guffawing in amusement. "Oh, he's a pistol, all right," he said, though he certainly didn't see that as a bad thing. Turning to Heather, he added, "You sure you can handle him?" There was a part of him that sincerely hoped she couldn't.

As if she could read his mind, Heather smiled coolly and replied, "Oh, I think I can."

…

Out on the poop deck at the stern, an area designated for third class passengers, Astrid watched as Riley chased Terry around. "You take that back!" she shouted.

"Never!" Terry called over his shoulder, turning sharply in order to avoid running into the ship's rail.

"You little…I'll get you!" Riley growled.

"What?" Terry panted, glancing back. "I just said that they call ships 'she' because they have big sterns! I can't help it if it's true!"

Riley let out a wordless snarl of rage and leapt, tackling her brother to the deck and grinding his face into the wood. Terry grunted and shouted, "Ow! Huh…this wood's really smooth…"

At that moment, a crewman holding the leashes of three small dogs came by, ignoring the passengers as if they weren't even there. Terry watched them for a moment before saying, "Hey, what are those dogs doing here?"

"They're first class dogs, you idiot," Riley said, finally relenting in her attack and standing up. "They bring them up here to walk and…you know, do their business."

Terry blinked, nonplussed. Then he suddenly realized that this area of the ship was called the poop deck for a reason. He leapt up with a cry of disgust, rubbing the cheek that had been pressed to the wood a moment before with his sleeve. "Eew, eeeeew," he moaned. "That's gross, that's really really gross!"

Astrid shook her head and turned to look out at the sea, but a flurry of motion caught her eye. Glancing up, she inhaled sharply. A handsome young man dressed in a fine suit walked up to the rail of the B Deck promenade, facing the stern and looking toward the horizon. His auburn hair was slicked back on his head, but as Astrid watched he reached up and ran his hands through his locks, intentionally mussing it up. When he was done, his untidy hair blew in the breeze, framing his face. Astrid felt her heart stutter.

And then it bounded when the man glanced down at the poop deck and met eyes with her.

It only lasted a second, but while their eyes were locked Astrid felt her entire world shift, as though the ship underneath her had suddenly lurched to the side. She shook herself mentally as his eyes returned to the sea. She was being ridiculous. Why on earth should seeing a man from first class (because he was very obviously from first class) change anything? He was just another man sailing to America like she was. There was nothing special about him that made him any different from the other passengers aboard.

Still, she found she couldn't tear her eyes away from him.

She gasped faintly when he looked at her again. This time, they held each other's gaze. He was too far away for her to get a good look at his expression, but his posture was relaxed. That must mean he didn't find her staring off-putting, right?

The man then smiled and nodded his head to her. Astrid felt herself blushing as she raised her hand and waved weakly in return.

Riley, who had been watching this silent exchange, scoffed. "Forget it, Astrid," she said. "I mean, yeah he's good-looking, but he's out of your league."

Astrid ignored her friend, continuing to stare at the man, even as a young woman with black hair appeared and grabbed him by the arm. He broke eye contact when he turned to look at the newcomer, who immediately started speaking. Astrid couldn't hear what was being said, but the woman's angry expression told her that it definitely wasn't a pleasant chat. The man tugged his arm from her grip, said a few curt words, and walked away. The woman said something to his retreating back, but he didn't pause and was out of sight in moments. Only then did Astrid turn to look at Riley, who was staring at her as though concerned for her sanity.

"You okay there?" Riley asked.

"Of course I am," Astrid insisted. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Riley didn't answer, and Astrid looked out at the ocean, thinking. _Forget it, Astrid_, she told herself sternly. _You're not the type to get all sentimental when you see a guy. You're a realist. So face the fact that Riley's right. He's way out of your league. Besides, you'll probably never see him again. _

Far from soothing her, this thought filled her with a sadness she couldn't even begin to comprehend.

**A/N: Fun fact: lamb would not have been available on the **_**Titanic **_**for lunch. That was a dinner-only item. But they did serve mutton. I read that and said, "Perfect! Mutton gets referenced all the time in the **_**Dragons **_**universe!" Who knew a blooper could work so well to my advantage? **

**Hope you're enjoying it! **


	4. Chapter 3: Futility

**A/N: While this story is heavily based on the Cameron movie, I've decided to take some liberties with the plot. One of those liberties is this chapter, which is almost entirely original. Hope you enjoy it. **

Chapter Three

Futility

Friday, April 12, 1912

The third class common area was bustling with activity. Astrid's eyes scanned the crowd of people with mild interest. They were a sampling of countless different ethnicities and cultures, all thrown together with one common goal: to reach America. Unlike those traveling first or even second class, who were merely on vacation or returning home from a trip, these were immigrants who had left behind everything that was familiar and known in order to start a new life in the New World. There were English, a lot of Irish that had boarded at Queenstown the day before, a smattering of Scandinavians, even a handful of Asians all gathered together. A hundred voices speaking in various different languages rang out, creating a din that made it impossible for Astrid to even hear herself think.

"You still thinking about that guy?" Riley asked, raising her voice in order to be heard over the ruckus.

Astrid whipped her head around to look at her and scowled. "Of course not," she snapped, and this was mostly true. Sure, she'd wondered idly who he was and why he'd seemed so forlorn – she suspected the woman she'd seen had something to do with that – and even fantasized briefly about meeting him again. But she'd quickly shaken herself of these thoughts, knowing they would only upset her. Besides, she knew there was no point to the fantasies. He was living the good life up in first class, whereas she was in steerage. Granted the third class accommodations aboard the _Titanic _were by the far the best in the shipping industry, but they were still nothing compared to the luxury of first class. That was simply a world she didn't belong to.

Her musings were interrupted by a yell of, "Rat!" followed immediately by several women screaming. Astrid looked around and saw people scrambling to get out of the way as two young men chased the offending rodent around the room, leaping over benches and bobbing through the crowd. As it approached the spot where she and her friends sat, Astrid pulled her feet up, more to keep them from getting stepped on than out of fear over the rat itself. Terry, on the other hand, let out the most un-masculine shriek she'd ever heard and leapt onto the bench, eyes wide with terror. Riley shook her head exasperatedly and Astrid laughed.

"Didja see it, Finn? Where'd it go?"

Astrid looked over at the owner of the voice, a well-built young man of about twenty with untidy black hair. He was holding a shoe in his upraised hand, clearly a weapon meant for the rat that had disappeared. He was speaking to another man, a stocky figure with blond hair plastered to the top of his round face. Seeing that he only wore one shoe, Astrid figured he'd sacrificed its mate to the cause.

The first boy glanced up and met eyes with Astrid. He blinked and then grinned widely, a cocky expression that made he want to roll her eyes. "Well hello there," he said. "My name's Sven. Sven Jorgenson. And who might you two lovely ladies be?"

Astrid arched an eyebrow. "Astrid Hofferson," she replied in her best you-don't-want-to-even-think-about-messing-with-me voice.

It was hard to tell whether or not Sven got the hint. His eyes scanned her from top to bottom briefly before turning to her companion, who introduced herself, "Riley Thorston. And this idiot…" She gestured at her twin, who was still cowering in fear of the missing rat. "…is my brother Terry."

"Pleased to meet you," said the stout boy courteously. "I'm Finnick Ingerman. Call me Finn and please spare me the fish jokes. I've heard them all."

Astrid grinned warmly. "You've got it."

"Did you find the rat?" Terry asked nervously, his eyes scanning the floor for the rodent.

Sven looked at Terry with a befuddled expression. "Dude, it's just a rat," he said.

Terry suddenly seemed to realize how silly he looked, for he clambered off the bench and sat down again. "Of course it is," he said brusquely. "I knew that."

Astrid and Riley glanced at each other and looked away quickly. The urge to burst into laughter was overpowering. Astrid's gaze fell instead on Sven, who suddenly had a devilish gleam in his eyes. Arranging his features so that he looked comically surprised, he cried, "Look, there it is, right on top of your head!"

Terry immediately screamed and leapt to his feet, brushing his hair vigorously to rid himself of the imaginary pest. Several people in the vicinity turned to watch the spectacle with confusion mixed with amusement, and Riley nearly fell out of her seat laughing. Sven roared with mirth, and Finn held a hand over his mouth to hide his grin. Even Astrid couldn't stop herself from giggling, and like Finn she reached up to conceal her expression.

"So where are you from?" Sven asked, sitting down in the empty space beside Astrid. Her smile flickered at the boy's close proximity. She had the distinct impression he was trying to flirt with her.

"America," she answered shortly.

Sven frowned. "But we're going to America."

Astrid didn't stop herself from rolling her eyes this time. "I know that. I'm going back home."

"Oh," Sven said, though she could tell that he still didn't get it. She decided not to illuminate him. She didn't want to give herself a headache. "I'm from Norway," he said. "We both are. We're heading to America to get rich!"

Astrid raised her eyebrows and said coolly, "Well, with your brains I'm sure you'll do fine."

Finn snorted and quickly covered the sound with a cough. Sven, however, missed her sarcasm completely and nodded. "Got that right, babe."

Astrid barely refrained from slapping her palm to her forehead. Good God Above, this was going to be a long voyage…

…

_This is going to be a long voyage_, Hinrik thought as he walked briskly down the deck. He kept glancing over his shoulder as he went, afraid he was being followed, but no one around him gave him a second glance, much to his relief. He didn't know what he'd say if Heather somehow found him. How could he possibly explain that he was trying to escape from the woman he was doomed to marry in just a few weeks? No matter how many times he ran through that conversation in his head, it never ended well.

But here he should be safe. It was technically the section reserved for second class passengers. And even though first class passengers could come here freely, it was something most of them would never dream of lowering themselves to do. He felt reasonably confident that he could find a few hours to himself.

He opened the door to the ship's library and paused on the threshold. The room was empty, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what any second class passengers might have thought to see a first class man in their midst and he thanked his lucky stars he wasn't going to be gawked at. Slipping inside, he walked up to the nearest bookshelf and scanned the titles available.

A slim volume with the title _Futility _caught his eye and he pulled it out, walking over to a nearby armchair and settling down to read the afternoon away. He had a few hours to kill before dinner and he couldn't think of anything better to do.

He opened the book, pausing to glance at the title and the author's name – Morgan Robertson – and began to read. The story was about a steamship, the largest and most scientifically sophisticated ever built. The passengers lived in the lap of luxury, and with all the amenities on board she was referred to as a "floating city." She was also the safest vessel on the ocean with her nineteen watertight compartments with doors that would close automatically to prevent flooding. The ship could float with up to nine of her compartments filled, and as no one could imagine a disaster that could cause that kind of damage, she was labeled "unsinkable."

The ship's name was the _Titan. _

Hinrik paused, his eyes focused on the name. He flipped back to the copyright page and found that the book had been published in 1898. "How is that possible?" he whispered.

The fictional ship was named _Titan_. The ship he was sailing on was called _Titanic_. Both were the biggest, grandest, and safest ships afloat. He looked back at the page he'd been reading and his eyes fell on the word "unsinkable." He'd heard that word before. Grant Owens had said on Wednesday that the _Titanic _was unsinkable. "God Himself can't sink this ship," were his exact words.

He thought for a moment about some of the material he'd read about the _Titanic_ before they'd come aboard. All the newspapers and shipbuilding magazines had been raving about her safety features. He vaguely recalled reading an article that described her watertight compartments. There were sixteen, if he remembered correctly, and with a flip of a switch on the bridge the doors could close and seal off a flooding compartment. The _Titanic _was capable of floating with up to four of the forward compartments filled and as such she had been labeled "unsinkable."

_The largest ship afloat…a floating palace…unsinkable…named after the Greek Titans…what on earth is going on? _

He shook his head. It must be a coincidence, he told himself. Of course with technology improving it was expected that steamships would get bigger and safer. If anything, the book was behind on the times: the _Titanic _was almost a hundred feet longer than the fictional ship. As for the name, well…he'd said it himself the previous day: it was pure arrogance to name a ship after the Titans. Apparently fictional people were just as capable of arrogance as real people. He continued to read.

The book continued describing the ship, stating that while she complied with the regulations, there were not enough lifeboats aboard for her total capacity. Indeed there was only room for five hundred out of a possible three thousand souls. Hinrik paused again, frowning. He couldn't remember how many lifeboats the _Titanic _had, but surely there would be enough for everyone aboard, right? It would be negligent for a ship to not have enough life-saving vessels for all her passengers and crew. He made a mental note to ask his father later and continued reading. The story didn't strike him as particularly interesting at first: it centered on a deckhand aboard the _Titan_, a former US Navy officer that had fallen from grace. While on a voyage across the Atlantic he ran into a former lover, who was sailing with her young daughter, and tensions rose between them. Once or twice Hinrik considered getting up and finding another book to read but decided against it each time. His armchair was just too comfortable to leave.

Then, a little before the novella's halfway point, the _Titan _rammed into an iceberg. The wound in her hull proved fatal and in no time at all she sank, taking most of her passengers to the bottom of the sea.

Hinrik stopped reading and stared down at the page, his thoughts scattered. The _Titan _and the _Titanic _were so similar. Both were big and grand and supposedly safe…was this book possibly…

He cut off that thought before it could fully form. He was being silly. It was just a stupid adventure story, nothing more. It was fiction. There was no need for him to be getting nervous over it. The _Titanic _was safe and any similarities the ship shared with its fictional counterpart were entirely coincidental.

But still…

He flipped back to the title page and gazed at the title. _Futility_. "Appropriate," he murmured. "All the effort taken to make the ship as grand and safe as possible and what happens? She ends up on the ocean floor."

He remembered his own words of the previous day: "It's like a slap in the face of God, the ultimate act of arrogance…" Man's hubris had created the _Titan_, and she was easily destroyed.

His heart stuttered for a moment. _Could the same thing happen to the _Titanic_…?_

He shook himself mentally and continued reading the story, though he found he couldn't quite concentrate on the story. His thoughts were jumbled and kept wandering away from the tale of the disgraced sailor. _Futility_, he thought. _All is futile. We can keep making them bigger and faster and grander but in the end it's all for nothing…_

"Hinrik?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. His head snapped up and his heart sank. Heather was standing at the library door, looking exasperated. _Oh great_, he thought dismally, _she found me. And it looks like I'm in trouble. _

He stood up as she bustled over. "Where have you been all afternoon?" she demanded.

"I've been here," Hinrik replied. _Obviously_, he added silently.

Heather sighed, apparently trying to retain some semblance of patience. "Well come on, dear. It's time for dinner."

"Is it really?" Hinrik asked, surprised. "Oh. I must have lost track of the time."

"Yes," Heather said impatiently, seizing his arm and all but dragging him to the door. "You seem prone to that. Now let's go. We still have time to change before going down to the dining saloon."

Hinrik barely had time to replace the book on the shelf before being ushered out of the library. He didn't look back, but he kept thinking about the book all the way back to the stateroom.

At dinner that night, Hinrik paid no attention to the conversation surrounding him. His father was talking to Gunnar, who was laughing delightedly at whatever he'd said. Heather was discussing something with Grant, who nodded politely as he ate. Hinrik sighed and glanced around the saloon. It was so opulent, so grandiose, so…unnecessary.

_Futile. _

He shook his head to clear it and tried to focus on what Stanford was saying, but all he heard was a faint rumble that he couldn't discern. He glanced over at Heather, who was smiling at her father. Her diamond necklace glittered in the lights shining above.

Dear God in Heaven, was this to be his future? Nothing but endless parties, meaningless chatter, polite laughter, surrounded by people who couldn't see how pointless all this was? Heather always by his side, latched to his arm like a leech, sucking the life out of him day by day? Did he have nothing at all to look forward to, nothing to distract him from the infinity of misery that lay before him? Did anyone, anyone at all, see that he was standing at the edge of a cliff, teetering, about to fall with no one to pull him back, to save him?

He reached out and picked up one of his forks, slipping it beneath the table. No one around him noticed. He rolled up his sleeve a little and pushed the tines into his skin. He felt the tiny prick of pain and pressed harder, poking and jabbing until the fork broke through his skin, drawing blood. He smiled slightly. He could feel pain. So not all was lost then.

It wasn't much, but he clung to it. The pain was all that separated him from an endless fall into nothingness.

**A/N: First of all, yes, there really was a book called **_**Futility **_**published in 1898 that told a story of an ocean liner named **_**Titan**_**, a ship considered the grandest and safest ship on the sea that struck an iceberg on a cold April night and sank, taking most of her passengers with her because she had too few lifeboats. It's one of the eerier stories surrounding the **_**Titanic **_**disaster because it seems to predict the ship's fate before she was even built. The book is in the public domain now and if you can find it, I suggest you read it if you're interested in the **_**Titanic**_**. I can't say the story is all that memorable, but the similarities between the fictional **_**Titan **_**and the real **_**Titanic **_**are eerily striking. As to whether or not the ship's library had a copy of the book, I don't know. I rather doubt it, actually, as it wasn't a very popular book at the time of its release, but hey, I'm taking a few artistic liberties. **

**Also, a note on the timeline. I don't know if anyone else has ever noticed, but the Cameron film (indeed, several films about the **_**Titanic**_**) skips a day. Bear with me for a moment: she strikes the iceberg on the 14****th**** of April, so the day Jack and Rose spend together would be the 13****th****, which makes the day of Rose's suicide attempt the 12****th****. The film presents this as the same day the **_**Titanic **_**left Queenstown, Ireland, but that was in fact the 11****th****, one day before. So either there's a time lapse somewhere (like the one I've put in my story), or else Cameron (and others) made an error. So for the sake of historical accuracy, I added an extra day to the voyage. Next chapter will be more familiar to you, I promise. In the meantime, I hope you're enjoying the story! **


	5. Chapter 4: Trapped

**A/N: We're back to familiar territory with this chapter. Hope you enjoy it! **

Chapter Four

Trapped

Hinrik excused himself from dinner early, feigning a headache, and returned to the suite he shared with his father. He closed the door behind him with a snap and leaned against it for a moment, sighing. He pressed one hand to his injured forearm, not caring that there was a bloodstain on the sleeve that would be impossible to remove. He relished the wound, cherished it.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the room, his hands coming up to undo the tie around his neck. His fingers fumbled and he grunted in irritation. A moment later, his irritation mounted and mingled with an ever-growing sense of panic. He couldn't get free! He was choking, suffocating! He couldn't breathe! Claustrophobia set in as he struggled, and with a wordless cry of terror and fury he ripped the tie away, tossing it aside as if it may bite him. A second later he yanked on the collar of his shirt, popping the top button. There! He could breathe again! But he felt no relief. He was still suffocating, still choking, and he couldn't remove the obstruction so easily this time.

He wavered for a moment before inhaling deeply, letting out all his frustrations in a tortured scream. He picked up a book lying on his dresser and threw it. It struck the opposite wall with a thud and hit the floor, the binding badly bent. But he didn't care. He threw open the doors of the armoire and ripped all his clothes from their hangers, hurling them all over. He didn't realize tears were running down his face, didn't hear the sobs bursting from his lips. He was too busy venting his hatred. Oh God how he hated them all! He hated Heather. He hated her father for raising her to be the way she was. He hated his own father for not putting a stop to the marriage. He hated Gunnar for not understanding, for not caring. He hated his mother for getting sick in the first place…

He froze as that thought crossed his mind. He was facing the mirror and finally noticed his reflection. He was pale and haggard-looking, and his hair was disheveled. There were dark circles under his eyes, which were red and puffy, and streaks of moisture ran down his face. He looked a mess.

In anger he slammed his palm against the mirror. To his dismay it didn't even crack, but he didn't try again. He had to get out of there. He had to run. Where he neither knew nor cared, just as long as it was as far away from this room and all the reminders of the disaster his life had become.

He bolted out into the hallway and took off at full speed, emerging moments later onto the A Deck promenade. He shoved his way past a few people who were milling about, taking leisurely strolls with arms linked. Several of them turned and watched him hurtle past, some with scandalized expressions, but he didn't care. To hell with them, to hell with all of them and their stuffy values and their impossible expectations. He didn't care.

He suddenly came to a stop as he realized he'd run all the way to the very stern of the ship. He had nowhere else to go, but his legs wanted to keep going, to carry him further. He realized with a sinking heart that no matter how much he ran he would always want to keep going, putting more and more distance between himself and the trap he'd fallen into, the trap of his own making.

_Trapped…that's what I am, I'm trapped…and there's no escaping it, no getting free, not ever…_

_Unless… _

He blinked and slowly looked down over the rail. Down far below him, the ocean churned as the _Titanic_'s propellers spun, speeding them closer to New York, hurrying him toward his doom. So dark, so cold, uncaring.

Without really thinking about it, Hinrik reached out and clutched the rail hard enough that his knuckles turned white. He stepped up, climbing shakily and rather clumsily, one shaking hand reaching out to grab the stern flag mast for support. A few moments later, he was standing on the other side of the rail, and slowly, methodically, he maneuvered himself around so that he looked out over pure darkness, his back facing the safety of the ship. His grip on the railing was the only thing stopping him from plummeting sixty feet to a certain death. He breathed deeply. He could do this. It would be easy. All he had to do was let go and all his problems would be behind him. He wouldn't have to marry Heather and be miserable for the rest of his life. He wouldn't have to worry about not meeting his father's expectations of him. He would be free, free from the confines and trappings of life.

All he had to do was let go of the rail…

_On three_, he told himself, closing his eyes. _One…two…_

"Don't do it!"

His eyes snapped open and he twisted his neck around to face the speaker. It was a young woman, nineteen or twenty by his estimation, wearing a simple blouse and skirt that looked faded and worn. He vaguely recognized her as the steerage girl he'd seen the previous day down on the poop deck, the one that had waved shyly to him. She had blond hair that was tied back in a braid, although a few strands hung loose over her forehead. Her eyes were blue and at the moment filled with what looked like genuine fear, even though her other facial features were calm and composed. She held one arm out cautiously.

Hinrik silently cursed himself. He must have run right past her without even noticing in his blind rush to the stern. And now he'd involved a total stranger in his suicide. Great. Just what he needed. "Stay back!" he said, unable to stop his voice from shaking. "Don't come any closer!"

Astrid took a slow, tentative step toward him, and his grip tightened reflexively. "Come on," she said softly. "Take my hand, I'll pull you back in…"

"No!" Hinrik snapped, and Astrid halted. "Stay where you are! I mean it. I'll…" He turned to face the endless span of dark ocean below him and closed his eyes. "I'll let go!"

Seconds passed. The only thing Hinrik could hear over the rushing of the wind and the rushing of the sea was the rapid _tha-thump_, _tha-thump_ of his frantically-beating heart. He didn't loosen his grip on the rail. If anything, his fingers closed even tighter around it.

"No you won't."

It wasn't the words themselves that made Hinrik open his eyes and look around at her in disbelief. It was the way she said it, so calm, cool, and certain. He glanced at her eyes and realized that the panic he'd seen there earlier had faded. She wasn't afraid for him anymore, she was so sure he wouldn't jump.

Irrational anger flared up inside him, and he snapped, "Excuse me? Don't presume to tell me what I will or will not do, you don't know me!"

Astrid shrugged unconcernedly, for all the world as if they were talking about the weather. "Well, you would have done it already," she pointed out.

Hinrik gaped at her for a moment, too stunned to reply. Then he shook his head with a grunt and growled, "You're distracting me. Go away."

"I can't," Astrid sighed. "I'm involved now. If you go over I'm going to be blamed. So if you let go I have to jump in after you."

Hinrik blinked. He certainly hadn't seen that coming. "Don't be stupid. You'd be killed."

"I'm a good swimmer," Astrid said a little defensively, reaching down to take off her shoes. They would only weigh her down in the water.

"The fall alone would kill you," Hinrik argued, glancing down again into the emptiness below and gripping the rail a little harder in spite of himself.

"It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't." Astrid straightened, and Hinrik suddenly realized that she'd gotten even closer. She could grab his arm if she so desired. But she showed no sign of considering such an action, so he let it go without comment. "To be honest," she continued, "I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold."

Hinrik blinked and stopped himself from looking at the water again. "How cold?" he asked, trying to sound merely curious but not quite concealing the uneasiness of his voice.

"Freezing," Astrid answered with a shrug. "Maybe a couple of degrees over."

Hinrik leaned a little closer to the ship.

"Have you ever heard of the Isle of Berk?"

The question came out of nowhere, and Hinrik couldn't quite wrap his mind around it for a couple of seconds. "What?"

"Berk?" Astrid repeated. "It's a little island off the coast of Norway."

"Yeah," Hinrik said. "My…my mother grew up there."

"Really?" Astrid raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Well, it's a small world after all, huh? I was born there. My family moved to the States when I was six, but I still have vague memories of the place. Anyway, when I was a kid, I fell off the pier in the middle of winter. And let me tell you…" She stepped up to the rail and peered over the edge. "Water that cold, like that down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think…at least not about anything but the pain…"

She glanced at Hinrik, whose uncertainty was written plainly on his face. She stopped herself from smiling.

"Which is why I'm really not looking forward to jumping in there after you," she added with a sigh. "But like I said, I don't have a choice."

She paused and looked at Hinrik. He didn't move or say a word.

"I guess I'm kind of hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here," she prodded.

A faint flicker sparked in Hinrik's eyes, the last vestiges of his resolve. "You're crazy," he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

Astrid grinned. "Well maybe I am, but…with all due respect, sir, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship, here."

Well, he couldn't argue with that logic.

"Come on," Astrid urged gently, holding out her hand again. "You don't want to do this. Give me your hand."

There was a beat. Hinrik looked from Astrid's face to her hand and back again. For a moment, Astrid felt fear returning, wondering if he was going to jump after all.

Then he sighed and murmured, "All right." He unclenched one fist and reached out to take her hand. Moving slowly and carefully, he turned so that he was facing her with the rail standing between them.

Astrid breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm Astrid Hofferson."

"Hinrik Hamish Haddock the Third," Hinrik replied, his voice quavering.

"Wow," Astrid remarked with a faint laugh. "I might have to get you to write that one down."

Hinrik chuckled weakly and stepped up onto the rail, intending to climb back over onto the ship. Maybe he could return to his cabin before his father returned and found all his belongings thrown about the room as if a tornado had gone through there…

His mind wandered during that crucial second, and his foot slipped off the edge of the deck.

With a yell, Hinrik dropped. Astrid, still clasping his hand, was jerked toward the rail, the metal cutting into her torso. She grunted but her grip stayed strong. "I've got you!" she cried. "I won't let go! Now pull yourself up, come on!"

Hinrik, his heart hammering, glanced down at the water churning below. His head swam; now that he'd found the will to live again, the height was dizzying. He returned his gaze to Astrid and tried to scramble back up to the deck. His feet found no purchase on the smooth metal of the hull and he slipped a little further down. "Help!" he cried. "Help me, please!"

"Take it easy!" Astrid gasped. "I've got you. Now come on, you've gotta pull yourself up! Come on, Hinrik!"

Hinrik took a deep breath to calm himself and reached up with his free hand, his fingers just managing to clasp the deck. Grunting and gasping, he pulled himself up, propping his elbow on the edge. Astrid grabbed him further up on his arm and heaved with all her strength. Slowly, Hinrik rose and clambered over the rail, and the two of them collapsed together in a heap on the wooden deck, safe.

Astrid was the first to extricate herself from the mass of limbs and stood up, offering a hand to pull Hinrik to his feet. He accepted it gratefully and rose. He took several shaky steps away from the rail and leaned against a nearby bench, breathing heavily. "Th-thanks," he finally managed to gasp.

"No problem," Astrid replied, also out of breath.

"Hinrik? What on earth are you doing out here?"

They both looked up to see Heather approaching, followed closely by Stanford, Grant, Gunnar, and Grant's valet Milton. _Oh great, an audience. That's just what I needed_, Hinrik thought.

"Hinrik?" Heather demanded, drawing level with them and seizing his arm. "What's going on? Who is she?" She glared at Astrid, who raised her eyebrows in offended surprise. "What are you doing in this part of the ship?"

"Heather, this is Astrid Hofferson," Hinrik swiftly cut across her questions. "She just saved my life."

"She did?" Stanford asked as he approached, his eyes wide. "What do you mean, son?"

Hinrik's heart missed a beat. _Uh-oh…how do I explain this? _

"Uh, I was…I came out to get some fresh air," he began, and Heather frowned. He was going to have to do better. "And…I decided I wanted to see the propellers. I was curious and I'm afraid I must have been leaning pretty far over because I slipped. You know how clumsy I am." He attempted a laugh but it came out high-pitched and unnatural. "Anyway, I slipped and almost went over, but Miss Hofferson here…" He glanced at Astrid, whose face was mercifully impassive. "…managed to pull me back onto the ship. She almost went overboard herself in the attempt."

Heather frowned, clearly not buying the story, but Stanford looked at Astrid and asked, "Is this true, lass?"

Astrid half-glanced at Hinrik before replying, "Yes sir, it is."

"Well, the lass is a hero," Gunnar spoke up.

"I believe the term is 'heroine'," Grant told him with an arched eyebrow.

Gunnar shrugged. "Eh, whatever. Same difference."

Stanford ignored this exchange and reached out to clasp Astrid's hand. She looked startled but didn't draw back. Stanford smiled and said with complete sincerity, "Thank you, Miss Hofferson, for saving my son. I am forever in your debt."

Astrid grinned sheepishly. "You're welcome, sir."

Stanford nodded and turned to his son. "Come on, Hinrik. Let's get you inside. You must be freezing."

He was, in fact. He hadn't noticed the chill in the air before, but now that he did he desperately wished he was indoors. But he said, "Just a moment, Father." Then he turned to Astrid and said, "Miss Hofferson, would you do us the great honor of joining us for dinner tomorrow night?"

Heather's jaw dropped in shock, but Hinrik didn't notice. His focus was entirely on Astrid, who blinked in surprise. Then a small smile turned the corners of her mouth. "I'd be delighted."

"Great," Hinrik said, smiling with what seemed to be genuine joy at her words. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," Astrid echoed.

Hinrik nodded and turned around. Heather sent one last withering glare at Astrid before linking arms with her fiancé and leading him back toward the first class section of the ship. Stanford, Grant, and Gunnar followed close behind, but Milton hesitated, looking at Astrid in a way that made her feel he could see right through her. She barely suppressed a shudder.

"Don't forget your shoes, lass," he said after a moment, pointing his walking stick at her shoes, lying forgotten by the rail. Astrid's eyes widened in surprise, but before she could say anything Milton continued airily, "You know, it's funny. The young man slipped so suddenly but you still had time to remove your shoes. Hmm…interesting…"

Astrid opened her mouth but couldn't think of a thing to say. Not a single way to explain the shoes crossed her mind. In the end, though, it didn't matter. Milton turned away without another word and departed after his employer and the others, leaving Astrid to stare mutely after him.

**A/N: For those of you wondering, no, I'm not including the Heart of the Ocean necklace. No matter how I try to work it out, it never holds the same symbolic significance for Hiccup/Hinrik as it does for Rose. So no necklace, which means (drumroll) more original material! Yay! (awkward silence, crickets chirping) …Um…anyway…hope you're enjoying the story. **


	6. Chapter 5: Confessions

**A/N: To Guest Reviewer Nei: This is essentially a retelling of the Cameron film with the HTTYD characters, although I will be taking a few liberties with the plot here and there as I see fit. But at its core, yes, I'm following the film. **

Chapter Five

Confessions

Saturday, April 13, 1912

The next afternoon, as Heather was having tea and the men experimented with the equipment in the first class gymnasium, Hinrik walked along the A Deck promenade toward the bow, stopping for a moment as he stepped out into direct sunlight. It warmed his skin and seemed to seep right through him, down to his very core. He breathed a deep sigh and smiled before continuing on his way down to the forward well deck, pausing just long enough to unlatch a waist-high gate that separated steerage from the rest of the ship. Then he stepped down into the third class common room.

It was a crowded space, and for a moment he hesitated, wondering if this was a bad idea. Perhaps he should just return and not bother with it, but by now people had noticed his presence and were whispering to each other. He straightened his back and boldly stepped forward, determined not to retreat like a dog with its tail between its legs. Still, the stares he felt directed at him made the back of his neck prickle. He hated being stared at.

His face suddenly lit up as his eyes fell on Astrid, who was seated on a bench a few paces away, chatting with a large young man with blond hair. Beside her, another young woman was talking to a beefy man with black hair, who seemed to be flirting with her. She didn't look impressed. On her other side, a young man who might have been her twin was looking around, apparently bored.

It was this man who was first among them to see Hinrik. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Seeing his expression change, the others all turned around one by one to see what he was gawking at, and their expressions soon matched his. Astrid was the last to turn, and while she too looked surprised, her lips turned upward in a warm smile.

"Miss Hofferson," Hinrik said, stepping forward and inclining his head.

"Hinrik," Astrid replied, standing up. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Um…" Hinrik stammered, "could I speak to you, please?"

Astrid nodded and waited for him to talk. Hinrik glanced around at the room and noticed that half the people had stopped whatever they were doing to look at him. "Privately?" he added.

Understanding at last, Astrid said, "Of course," and motioned for him to lead the way back to the stairs leading up to the well deck. Her friends all watched her depart with their mouths hanging open.

Riley was the first to recover. She grinned and said, "Go get 'im, Astrid!"

…

"…so I've been on my own since I was fifteen," Astrid concluded. "Since my parents died. I have no brothers or sisters or relatives in that part of the country, no reason to stay, so I got out of there and haven't been back since. I met Riley and her brother Terry while in England and we've stuck together."

They were walking along the Boat Deck. They made an interesting picture, the prince next to the peasant girl taking a stroll together. Several people had looked at them in confusion but no one had mentioned the presence of a steerage passenger in first class. A passing steward had at one point frowned and seemed to be about to tell them off but Hinrik had sent him away with a glare.

"Well, Hinrik," Astrid said after a moment, her voice brisk. "We've walked about a mile around this Boat Deck and chewed over how I grew up and how great the weather's been, but that's not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?"

Hinrik shook his head but didn't speak at once. He still wasn't quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to say, which is why he'd delayed by asking Astrid to tell him her life story. But now he couldn't stall any longer. "Miss Hofferson—" he began.

"Astrid," she corrected.

Hinrik nodded. "Astrid," he amended. "I…I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you."

"Yet here you are," Astrid observed.

"Here I am," Hinrik echoed, and he sighed. "I…want to thank you for what you did last night. Not just for pulling me back over but for your discretion."

Astrid shrugged. "You're welcome."

There was an awkward pause.

"Look," Hinrik finally huffed, "I know what you must be thinking. 'Poor little rich boy. What does he know about misery?'"

"No," Astrid replied, sounding a little surprised. "That's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was, 'What could have happened to this guy to make him think he had no way out?'"

That brought Hinrik up short for a moment. "Well…I…" he blustered. Then he sighed. "I'm engaged."

Astrid frowned. "I don't understand."

"That woman you met last night? That's my fiancée, Heather Owens." Hinrik looked out at the ocean. "It's just…all my life I've felt like I have to measure up to what everyone thinks I ought to be. I'm supposed to be the perfect son, to take over the family business when my father steps down, to marry and have children and raise them to be just like me, and…I just couldn't take it. I felt so trapped last night that I had to escape, except there was no escape. Even the _Titanic _wasn't big enough for that."

"Do you love her? Your fiancée?" Astrid asked.

"What?" The question caught Hinrik off-guard. "Of course I do."

It was a knee-jerk reaction. He'd been telling people he loved Heather for weeks, it was almost second nature to him by now. But judging from Astrid's skeptical look, she didn't believe him. He sighed. "No. No, I don't love her. In fact, I can't stand her." He laughed humorlessly. "You know what she calls me when we're alone together? She calls me 'Hiccup.' The first time we met I had a terrible case of the hiccups that I couldn't get rid of and now she won't ever let me forget it. She says it's cute, but it drives me crazy."

"Then why are you marrying her?"

Hinrik teetered for a moment on telling her that it was none of her business, but there was such tenderness and compassion in her eyes that he suddenly found himself explaining, "My mother is sick. Really sick. The medications are expensive, and the business is failing. We're not going to have enough to pay for what she needs before long."

"So you're marrying her for her money?"

Hinrik could hear the judging note in her voice and went on the defensive. "What else can I do? The Owens family is incredibly wealthy. It's because of them that my father and I are even travelling first class. They're paying for our rooms." He exhaled, trying to calm himself. "I have to marry her. I have no other way to get the money I need to save my mother's life."

Astrid's face visibly softened and she reached out to lay a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Hinrik."

He smiled weakly at her and didn't reply. But he did yelp in pain when Astrid punched him on the arm. "What on earth was that for?!"

"Let's talk about something else," she replied. "This is getting too depressing."

Hinrik, rubbing his hurting arm, huffed. "Well what do you want to talk about?"

Astrid shrugged. "Tell me about yourself," she suggested. "I've told you all about me but I know next to nothing about you. Let's even the score a little."

Hinrik rolled his eyes but couldn't stop himself from grinning. "I'm afraid I'm not a very interesting person to talk about," he said. "I was born to a wealthy businessman father and a Norwegian immigrant mother. We live up north. We own a stable."

"A stable?" Astrid repeated, interested. "You have horses?"

"Two," Hinrik confirmed. "We used to have more, but we sold them when Mother's health started going downhill. She has a Thoroughbred gelding named Cloudjumper, and sometimes I think she sees him as a second son." Astrid laughed, and Hinrik chuckled before continuing, "And I have a black Arabian gelding named Tempest."

"Oh, you ride?" Astrid asked.

Hinrik nodded. "Yep. It's…it's what's kept me sane all these years. Whenever I was feeling like I couldn't take it anymore, I would go out and take Tempest for a ride. I would always feel better afterward." His smile flickered. "I've thought about selling him too. You know, to pay for Mother's medicine. But…it would be like selling a part of my soul. And besides," he added with a faint laugh, "Mother told me on no account was I to sell him. If I did, she swore that when she died she'd come back as a ghost and haunt me for the rest of my life."

"Wow," Astrid laughed. "She sounds like a character."

"She is," Hinrik agreed. "She's the only person who's ever bothered to stop and listen to me, to ask me about my ambitions, my hopes, my dreams…"

"Well, tell me about them," Astrid said brightly. "What are your dreams?"

Hinrik chuckled. "Well…this is gonna sound crazy, but I've always wanted to be an artist. I can draw a little. I'm not great but with a little practice I could do better. Yeah." He was staring to get animated as his fantasy unfolded. "I've dreamed about making my living as an artist, living in the garret, poor but free…!"

Astrid shook her head and said with a laugh, "You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water and hardly ever any caviar…"

Instantly Hinrik's smile vanished. "I happen to hate caviar," he snapped. "And I also hate it when people tell me what dreams I should and should not have." He stopped and looked away sheepishly. "Sorry," he murmured. "That was uncalled for."

"No," Astrid said quietly. "It's okay. I shouldn't have said that. It was stupid."

Hinrik's lips quirked. "How about we both admit we were wrong and pretend it never happened?"

Astrid grinned. "What never happened?"

"Exactly."

And with that, the tension eased. "So tell me more about Berk," Hinrik said. "I've always wanted to go there. My mother always speaks so highly of the place."

Astrid thought for a moment. "Not sure what more I can tell you. Remember, I left there when I was a child." She smiled. "Although I do remember hunting for dragons, once."

"Oh?" Hinrik chuckled. "And how did that turn out?"

"Well, we didn't find any dragons," Astrid told him, sounding as though she was genuinely disappointed. "But we did find an injured bird. Her wing was hurt, so we nursed her back to health until she was well enough to fly again. I named her Stormfly."

"That's nice…really," Hinrik said, and then he sighed. "Why can't I be like you, Astrid? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it?" Then he grinned. "Say we'll go there sometime, to Berk. Even if we only ever just talk about it."

"No, we'll go," Astrid said sincerely. "We'll go fishing on the lake, we'll hunt for dragons in the woods…" Hinrik laughed. "…and you can bring Tempest and take him riding along the beach."

Hinrik smiled. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Silence fell between them, but it wasn't awkward this time. It was a companionable stillness, a moment in which no words were needed to spoil their peaceful serenity.

"Hinrik?"

The magic of the moment was instantly shattered as Hinrik looked around to see Heather standing at the entrance to the grand staircase. Behind her, Stanford, Grant, and Gunnar were chatting happily, but Heather's attention was focused solely on her fiancé and the woman beside him. Hinrik suddenly realized they were standing rather close together and took a subtle step away from Astrid.

"Ah, Hinrik!" Stanford called, spotting his son standing by the rail. "There you are! We've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?"

"Oh, around," Hinrik replied vaguely. "Astrid, er…" He caught Heather's glare and corrected himself, "Miss Hofferson has been telling me about her childhood."

"How charming," Heather remarked, the faintest of sneers in her voice. She was still scowling at Astrid, who returned the look with interest. Hinrik blinked. She could be pretty intimidating when the need arose.

Before anyone could say anything more, however, a bugler sounded the meal call, making them all jump. "Why do they always insist on announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" Gunnar grumbled.

Hinrik laughed nervously and walked over to Heather, taking her arm. "I'll escort you back to the cabin, dear." Then he looked back over his shoulder and added, "See you at dinner, Astrid."

Astrid nodded with a faint smile, her heart lifting. She'd almost forgotten that he'd invited her to dinner that night. Stanford and Grant followed their children back inside the ship, but Gunnar hesitated, eyeing Astrid as she gazed after Hinrik. "Lass," he said, and Astrid looked sharply over at him. "Do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?"

"Uh…" Astrid shook her head sheepishly and admitted, "Not really."

Gunnar sighed. "Well, you're about to go into the snake pit." He paused, eyeing her clothes with a critical eye. "What are you planning to wear?"

"Um…" She looked down at herself. She hadn't thought of that.

"Never mind," Gunnar said, gesturing for her to follow him. "Come on. I bought a few dresses for my niece while I was in Paris. Maybe one of them will suit you."

Astrid followed him gratefully down to his stateroom, where he rummaged through a trunk for a moment before crying, "Ah-ha!" and pulling out a beautiful red sequined gown. "Here you are, lass. Try this one on."

He stepped out of the room while she changed, and when he reentered he said triumphantly, "I was right! You and my niece are about the same size!"

"Pretty close," Astrid agreed, looking at herself in the mirror. She had to admit, she did look stunning. She almost didn't recognize herself with her hair done up in an attractive bun, white gloves covering her arms up to the elbows, a glistening necklace around her neck, the shimmering dress falling elegantly to the floor.

"You look beautiful, lass," Gunnar praised, standing behind her as they both examined her reflection. Then he grinned slyly and added, "Poor Hinrik's not gonna be able to take his eyes off of you!"

Astrid blushed.

**A/N: This chapter is mostly lifted from the Cameron script, including some deleted dialogue. The backstory – Hinrik's reason for marrying Heather – is from UnderTheWillowTrees, as is the Astrid-punching-Hinrik bit (again, thank you!). The rest of it is my own (mostly). I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you enjoyed it! **

**And yes, Hinrik's horse Tempest is this AU's Toothless. I like the thought of Toothless as a horse, especially because I have one of my own and he's pretty much the center of my world. It's an AU I don't see very often but would love to see more of. Maybe I'll have to write one of my own…hmm…**


	7. Chapter 6: The Snake Pit

**A/N: I just want to thank you all for your reviews! I don't always reply to them all but believe me when I say that I love reading them. So please don't assume that just because I don't reply that I'm ignoring your input. Please continue to review this story as you read, I love to know what my readers are thinking. And your suggestions and constructive criticism help me grow as a writer. So once again, thank you all for your reviews! **

**And now on with the show. **

Chapter Six

The Snake Pit

Astrid was certain that she was having a wonderful dream when she stepped into the first class grand staircase. Surely nothing in the world could be as beautiful and elegant as this structure. Carved from oak and delicately detailed, the staircase stretched all the way up from the Boat Deck down to the dining saloon on D Deck. On the wall halfway between the top two landings was an intricate clock, surrounded by the carved figures of Honor and Glory crowning Time. The whole thing was bathed in light pouring from a huge glass dome overhead, at the center of which hung a crystal chandelier. It was all utterly breathtaking, and try as she might Astrid couldn't help herself from staring at it in open-mouthed awe.

Gunnar, who was escorting her by the arm, chuckled at her expression and said, "Careful, lass, or a fly will land on your tongue." Astrid snapped her jaw shut and shot him a half-hearted glare, but he merely chuckled and led her down to A Deck. "Wait here," he said. "Hinrik will be down in a moment." Then he walked off to talk to some acquaintances standing nearby, leaving Astrid to examine the banister more closely. She was no expert of architecture or design, but she was positive that there was nothing on land or sea that was as elegant as this staircase.

She heard voices and straightened, trying to look prim and proper as first class passengers began descending the stairs for dinner. They were all dressed in their finest, some making even her gown look plain by comparison. She paid extra-close attention to the ladies, trying to mimic their posture and expressions. She felt rather foolish but was determined to blend in. She definitely didn't want to be found out because she slouched or some such nonsense.

"Where is Hinrik?"

Astrid looked around in time to see Heather descending the stairs toward her, arm-in-arm with her father Grant. She was looking back over her shoulder, impatiently waiting for her fiancé to appear. There was no sign of Hinrik, although Stanford was walking leisurely down the steps behind her.

"I'm sure he'll be along soon," Grant replied soothingly, patting his daughter's arm. "You know how he is."

Heather sighed and looked forward again, her eyes falling on Astrid, who stiffened. But Heather merely smiled and nodded in greeting as she swept past. Astrid had to put a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. Heather hadn't even recognized her! Nor, for that matter, had Grant or Stanford, who had both acknowledged her with a polite smile without the faintest glimmers of realization in their eyes. Shaking her head in amusement, Astrid turned back toward the staircase and felt her lungs constrict.

Hinrik was coming down the steps, and when their eyes met, she knew he instantly recognized her. His entire face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. He smiled, and Astrid returned the expression mutely. He was dressed in a fine suit, complete with white bow tie. He had decided against slicking his hair back this time, choosing instead to leave it hanging naturally over his forehead, looking just slightly windswept. For a moment Astrid felt a little dizzy, but she quickly composed herself, secretly embarrassed that she'd let her defenses down so easily.

Hinrik reached the landing and took her hand in his, bending down to kiss her outstretched knuckles. "Astrid," he greeted.

"Hinrik," she replied, straightening her back and trying to look and sound dignified. Then, glancing at her hand still poised at his lips, she added, "You know, I've always wanted someone to do that to me."

Hinrik chuckled and straightened, offering his arm to her. Smiling, she accepted it, allowing him to lead her toward the rest of their party. As they walked, Astrid stuck her nose up in the air in an exaggeratedly haughty expression, and Hinrik snorted with concealed laughter.

"Darling," he said as they approached Heather and the others. His fiancée looked around questioningly. "You remember Miss Hofferson?"

Heather's eyes flicked over to Astrid and then widened comically. "Miss Hofferson?" she repeated, sounding surprised. "Amazing! You could almost pass for a lady."

Hinrik shot her a look, but Astrid merely smiled in the face of her jab and said, "Almost."

Heather smiled, though the expression was void of all warmth. Stanford, on the other hand, beamed at her and said, "So glad you could make it, my dear."

"Thank you, sir," Astrid replied, smiling sweetly.

With that they all moved down to the dining saloon, the largest single room on any oceangoing vessel to date. It spanned the entire width of the ship and had seating capacity for 500 people. At the moment it seemed it was nearly full, with people standing and mingling, chatting and laughing at amusing stories. Grant and Stanford led their group to a round table close to the staircase and they all took their seats. Astrid took a chair between Stanford and Gunnar, with Hinrik on Gunnar's other side. Heather was on Hinrik's right, and Grant took the seat next to her. The other two chairs were soon occupied by a young couple, who smiled as they introduced themselves as the Mastersons. They passed the first few minutes with idle chitchat, remarking on the clear weather and the ship's speed. There was some talk that they would be arriving in New York a day early. Glancing over at Hinrik, Astrid secretly hoped this wasn't true.

Of course Heather could always be counted upon to spoil the mood.

"Tell us of the steerage accommodations, Miss Hofferson," she said, smiling her sickeningly superior smile. "I hear they're quite good on this ship."

The Mastersons exchanged questioning looks as Astrid turned slightly pink. But she made sure to smile back when she replied, "The best I've seen, Miss Owens. Hardly any rats."

Gunnar, Stanford, and Hinrik laughed pleasantly as Heather's smug look flickered. Stanford then explained to the Mastersons, "Miss Hofferson is joining us from third class. She was of some assistance to my son last night."

Feeling this wasn't an adequate explanation and bothered by the way the Mastersons glanced at each other, Hinrik quickly added, "She saved my life, actually. I lost my balance and nearly fell overboard but she pulled me back at great personal risk."

Mr. Masterson looked suitably impressed at this and smiled at Astrid, who sent Hinrik a silent thank-you with her eyes. Hinrik went one step further by contributing, "It so happens that Miss Hofferson is from Berk." Stanford's eyes widened in surprise.

"Berk?" Mrs. Masterson repeated curiously.

"An island off the coast of Norway," Hinrik explained. "It's where my mother grew up."

"Really, lass?" Stanford asked, and when Astrid smiled and nodded shyly he chuckled. "I knew there was a reason I liked you!"

The others laughed (Heather's laugh sounded a bit forced), and conversation paused as a waiter appeared. "How do you take your caviar, miss?" he asked Astrid.

She opened her mouth to reply but Heather spoke up, "Just a _soupcon_ of lemon." Then she added to Astrid as if she was doing her a huge favor, "It improves the flavor with champagne."

Astrid raised her eyebrows and said to the waiter, "No caviar for me, thanks. I never did like it much."

She looked over at Hinrik, pokerfaced, and he smiled.

Thwarted, Heather tried a new tact. "And where exactly do you live, Miss Hofferson?"

Astrid looked over at her again and replied, "Well, right now my address is the RMS _Titanic_, and after that I'm on God's good humor."

As she spoke, the salads were served. She blinked down at the myriad of utensils arranged around her plate and reached for one of the forks, but she caught Hinrik's eye at the last second. He shook his head so slightly that no one else noticed and surreptitiously showed her the appropriate fork to take. She corrected herself at once and no one picked up on her near-mistake.

"Is all this for me?" Astrid hissed to Gunnar out of the corner of her mouth.

"Just start from the outside and work your way in," he replied in an undertone.

Not noticing any of this, Heather pressed on, "But how is it that you have the means to travel?"

"I work my way from place to place," Astrid replied, "travelling on tramp steamers and such. But I won my ticket on _Titanic _here in a lucky hand at poker." She half-glanced at Hinrik before emphasizing, "A very lucky hand."

"All life is a game of luck," Mr. Masterson declared, bestowing a kind, if slightly patronizing, smile on Astrid.

"A real man makes his own luck," Grant replied coolly.

Still looking at Astrid, Heather went in for the kill. "And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" She smirked and took a sip of champagne, certain that she'd put Astrid in her place, neither noticing nor caring that both Hinrik and Gunnar were glaring at her.

So she was not at all pleased to hear Astrid reply, "Well, yes I do." She considered her words for a moment before continuing, "My father was always talking about going to see the world. He died after only living in two places and never got the chance to go anywhere he'd hoped to visit. You can't wait around, because you never know what kind of hand you're going to be dealt next. See, my parents died in a fire when I was fifteen, and I've been on the road since. Something like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count."

"Well said, Astrid," Gunnar said, nodding.

"Here, here," Stanford agreed.

Hinrik raised his glass. "To making it count," he toasted.

Astrid's eyes flitted over to him in surprise as the others around the table imitated him and echoed, "To making it count." Smiling, Astrid raised her own glass.

Heather, a couple of seconds late, lifted her glass just slightly. Her forced smile faded almost at once and she spent most of the remainder of the dinner scowling at her plate.

Time passed and Astrid ate, talked, and laughed with the others. By the time dessert was finished she almost forgot that she was a guest among these people, she felt so at home. It helped that both Stanford and Gunnar had taken a liking to her, the former asking her questions about Berk and the latter making jokes with her that made her nearly fall out of her chair laughing.

All too soon, though, the dinner ended. The Mastersons excused themselves, and Grant stood up. "Join me for a brandy, gentlemen?" he asked Stanford and Gunnar.

"Think I will," Gunnar replied, and Stanford nodded. They stood up as well.

"Thank you for letting me borrow this dress," Astrid said to Gunnar. "I'll have a steward return it tomorrow."

"That's fine," Gunnar said, smiling. "Glad you could come, Astrid. You were the life of the party." Astrid blushed slightly but grinned up at him.

"Are you coming, son?" Stanford asked Hinrik.

"No, I don't think so," Hinrik replied. "I think I'll escort Miss Hofferson back and then I'll turn in early. I'm rather tired."

"All right then," Stanford said, giving Hinrik a clap on the shoulder that almost sent him face-first into the table. "Good night, son." And with that the three men headed off in the direction of the first class smoking room.

Hinrik stood up and said to Heather, "Good night, dear."

"Good night," she replied rather stiffly.

Hinrik helped Astrid out of her seat (not that she needed help, but she accepted the gesture gratefully nonetheless) and offered her his arm once more. She sneaked a glance at Heather and was delighted to see the black-haired woman scowling. She hooked her arm through Hinrik's and allowed him to lead her back toward the staircase, keeping her back straight and her posture regal for as long as she felt Heather's stare boring into her.

It wasn't until they reached the base of the grand staircase that Astrid stopped Hinrik and asked, "Are you really that tired? Or was that just an excuse to get away?"

Hinrik grinned. "You know me so well," he remarked. "No, I'm not all that tired. Why?"

Astrid considered for a moment, and then she grinned. "Want to go to a real party?"

**A/N: In case you're wondering, no, the Masterson couple is not based on any of the real **_**Titanic **_**passengers. I'm trying to keep the appearances of historical figures to an absolute minimum. I want to keep the focus entirely on Hinrik, Astrid, and the gang and don't want to divide my time between them and people that we've seen in countless other **_**Titanic **_**movies. **

**That said, I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! **


	8. Chapter 7: The Dancing and the Dreaming

Chapter Seven

The Dancing and the Dreaming

Compared to the relative silence of the first class dining saloon, the din being made in the third class common room was positively deafening. Yet Hinrik found that he didn't mind it at all. True, the ad hoc band was made up of a piano, a fiddle, an accordion, and a tambourine and was making music unlike anything he was accustomed to hearing, but the rhythm was so lively and the atmosphere so happy and carefree that he couldn't help smiling and clapping along with the others.

He was seated on a bench, watching Astrid dance with a young boy she'd introduced to him as Corey. She still wore the borrowed dress but had removed the necklace and gloves, which were with Hinrik's dinner jacket and tie, lying on the bench beside him. Her hair had come free from its elegant bun and fell down in wavy lines that bounced and swirled with her every motion. She was stunningly beautiful, and Hinrik had a hard time tearing his eyes away from her.

Someone seated next to him said something, and he glanced over. They were looking questioningly at him. "What?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

The man repeated his question, speaking in a language Hinrik didn't recognize. "I can't understand you," he said apologetically, gesturing with his hands in a way he hoped would translate. The stranger seemed to comprehend, for he nodded and looked away, apparently unconcerned.

The song ended and Astrid walked over to him, breathless and grinning, her face flushed. "That looked like fun," Hinrik observed.

"It was," Astrid confirmed. "You should try it."

Hinrik laughed. "You've obviously never seen me dance."

Astrid giggled and reached out to take his hand. "Come on, there's some people I want you to meet."

She led him over to the far corner of the room, where Riley, Terry, Sven, and Finn were all seated around a little round table. Riley was looking distinctly peeved and it was no surprise as to why: on either side of her, Sven and Finn were trying to win her attentions, each with a telltale lovestruck expression on his face. Terry watched their attempts to woo his sister with thinly-veiled amusement. When Riley said something to Sven that made his face fall in disappointment, he scoffed and said, "Pathetic. You know, you could always jump overboard."

Hearing this, Astrid squeezed Hinrik's hand a little tighter. "Shut up, Terry," she said as they approached. "Nothing's worth jumping off this ship. Not even Riley."

Riley scowled at them as they sat down in two vacant chairs. "Thanks, Astrid," she said. "That makes me feel real good about myself."

Astrid shrugged. "Just being honest." She handed Hinrik a glass of ale, which he sipped cautiously. To a tongue accustomed to champagne and brandy, the taste was startling, but he took several gulps, feeling rather refreshed when he lowered the glass from his lips.

He realized he was being stared at by the others. "What?" he asked, eyes widening a little. "You think a first class guy can't drink?"

Astrid grinned. Sven, however, frowned and said, "First class? What are you doing down here in steerage?"

Astrid punched him on the arm, making him wince. "I invited him, remember? Now be nice." Looking back at Hinrik she introduced them all to him. Each of them nodded or waved their hand as she called their name.

"Jorgenson, huh?" Hinrik said, looking at Sven and Finn. "And Ingerman? Are you two Norwegian, by chance?"

"Yeah," Sven said, obviously thinking Hinrik was about to pick a fight. "What's it to you?"

Hinrik smiled and said in perfect Norwegian, "_It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Hinrik Haddock._"

Everyone's jaw dropped, including Astrid's. Finn was the first to recover. "Wow," he said, impressed. "Are you from Norway too?"

"No," Hinrik admitted, switching back to English. "But my mother was. She taught me how to speak the language." With half a glance at Astrid he added, "Someday I'd like to go there and see it for myself. I understand it's a beautiful country."

"Oh it is!" Finn said earnestly. "The fjords are truly spectacular…"

And he was off on an explanation of Norway's natural wonders. Hinrik listened attentively. Sven was looking at the first class man he had been ready to hate and decided that maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

As Finn was talking, Astrid reached out and started messing with Hinrik's hair. He looked at her quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"Braiding your hair," she replied nonchalantly. Hinrik rolled his eyes but made no move to stop her. "There," she said a few minutes later, sitting back and admiring the two little braids she'd put just behind his right ear. "Now you're a true Norwegian Viking like the rest of us."

Hinrik blinked at her, speechless, but a soft smile turned the corners of his mouth.

The band started playing a slow, easy melody, and Hinrik sat up straighter. "Oh," he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "I know this song."

"You do?" Astrid asked, surprised. She knew it too. It was a common song among the people of Berk.

"Yes," Hinrik replied, looking over at her with a faraway look in his eyes. "My parents sang it at their wedding. It's my mother's favorite song."

Astrid smiled as comprehension dawned. Of course, his mother was from Berk. She would have grown up with the song same as her…

Her musings were interrupted when Hinrik, to her complete surprise, started to sing.

"_I'll swim and sail on savage seas_

_With ne'er a fear of drowning_

_And gladly ride the waves of life_

_If you will marry me_"

He smiled and glanced over at Astrid, who grinned back at him. He had a lovely voice, a rich tenor that sounded as though he didn't use it that often. She wondered how frequently Hinrik sang, or even how frequently he had reason to sing. With all the problems he was facing, she figured there must not have been much cause for it lately.

He continued:

"_No scorching sun nor freezing cold_

_Will—_"

Finn suddenly burst out, "_Will stop me on my jour—_" Then, realizing that everyone except Hinrik, who looked faintly amused, was glaring at him, murmured, "—_ney_…sorry…"

Astrid sent him a withering glare but Hinrik just chuckled as he carried on to the next line:

"_If you will promise me your heart…_"

He paused for a breath, intending to continue singing the female part, but before he could get a word out Astrid cut in with her beautiful soprano:

"_And love me for eternity_"

She stood up and held out her hand. Hinrik blinked in surprise, and then he smiled and took it, standing and allowing her to lead him onto the dance floor. In some vague corner of his mind he was aware that the whole room was now watching them, but he didn't much care. His entire attention was focused solely on Astrid, who was singing the next verse:

"_My dearest one, my darling dear_

_Your mighty words astound me_

_But I've no need of mighty deeds_

_When I feel your arms around me_"

She raised her arm and Hinrik imitated her so that their forearms were braced against each other. Both grinning, they began the little jig that accompanied the song. Hinrik took the next part, his voice speeding up a little as the band picked up the tempo.

"_But I would bring you rings of gold_

_I'd even sing you poetry_

_And I would keep you from all harm_

_If you would stay beside me_"

They messed up the steps once, but they merely laughed it off and kept going. The crowd was starting to clap along with the music, and a few people started cheering them on. Astrid picked up the lyrics.

"_I have no use for rings of gold_

_I care not for your poetry_

_I only want your hand to hold_"

As they spun around, Hinrik interjected:

"_I only want you near me_"

The tempo increased as they twirled about, singing together now at the top of their lungs, gasping for breath between lines but smiling nonstop.

"_To love and kiss, to sweetly hold_

_For the dancing and the dreaming_

_Through all life's sorrows and delights_

_I'll keep your love inside me_"

The song got faster and faster, spinning toward its conclusion.

"_I'll swim and sail on savage seas_

_With ne'er a fear of drowning_

_And gladly ride the waves of life_

_If you will marry me_"

The song ended on a high note, and as Hinrik lifted Astrid and spun her around, the crowd erupted in applause and cheering. Hinrik grinned at Astrid, breathing rather heavily. His heart pounded in his chest, but he wasn't entirely convinced this was a result of their dancing. He suddenly realized that he was holding Astrid close to him, closer than they'd ever been. He entertained a fleeting thought that maybe he should let her go, but he dismissed it almost at once. Besides, she didn't seem uncomfortable. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, she leaned in a little closer to him, her cheeks flushed but her smile genuine.

Neither of them noticed the stooped old man peering in from the stairway. His beady eyes scanned the crowd and then widened when they landed on Hinrik holding Astrid in his arms, their faces inches apart, looking at each other as if nothing else in the world existed. He stood motionless, expectant, waiting for them to close the short distance between them and kiss.

But then they stepped away from each other, looking away rather awkwardly, sheepish grins still plastered on their faces. Milton scowled in disappointment but shrugged it off. It hardly mattered. That embrace was more than enough to report back to Heather. Maybe she'd get wise and end her engagement to this flighty young man who clearly didn't know his place or respect the class system he was so rigidly bound to. Smiling darkly to himself, he withdrew. No one in the common room saw him arrive or depart.

…

"_But I would bring you rings of gold_

_I'd even sing you poetry…_"

"Oh would you?" Astrid interrupted with a giggle. Hinrik elbowed her playfully and continued singing:

"_And I would keep you from all harm_

_If you would stay beside me_"

They were walking along the deserted Boat Deck, hand-in-hand and still rather giddy from the party they had left behind. Hinrik had placed his dinner jacket over Astrid's shoulders in a show of chivalry, which she was grateful for as the night had become chilly. It was a clear evening: there wasn't a cloud in the sky and the stars shone down on them, each one clearly visible in the blackness.

Astrid picked up the song:

"_I have no use for rings of gold_

_I care not for your poetry…_"

"Ouch," Hinrik remarked with a faked wince. Astrid snorted a laugh and continued:

"_I only want your hand to hold…_"

She waited for Hinrik to sing the next line, but he didn't. He came to a stop, his smile slipping. They had reached the entrance to the grand staircase. He let go of her hand, and she found she missed the warmth of his fingers as the cold night air touched her skin. He turned to face her and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He seemed lost for words.

"Here we are," he finally managed.

Astrid nodded and shrugged out of his coat, handing it back to him. He took it and folded it over his arm with a whispered, "Thanks." They stared at each other for a long moment, neither knowing quite what to say.

After a moment, Hinrik confessed, "I don't want to go back."

Astrid grinned but didn't reply. Hinrik, feeling uncomfortable, broke eye contact and looked up at the sky. His eyes widened. "Whoa…" he breathed. "Look. Isn't it magnificent? So vast and endless…"

Astrid looked too and she had to agree: the sight was breathtaking.

"You know," Hinrik said thoughtfully, "Heather and her father are such small people, Astrid. They think they're giants, but they're not even dust in God's eye. They live inside this little champagne bubble…and someday the bubble's going to burst."

He had moved over to the rail as he spoke, and Astrid stood beside him, her hand just touching his. It was the slightest contact imaginable, yet that single square inch of skin on their fingers was all either of them could feel.

"Look!" Hinrik pointed suddenly. "A shooting star!"

They watched in awe as the streak of light shot across the sky and vanished. "That was a long one," Astrid remarked. "You know, my father used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven."

Hinrik looked down at her and smiled. "I like that," he said quietly. Then after a moment he added, "Aren't we supposed to wish on it?"

Astrid shrugged. "What would you wish for?"

Hinrik thought for a second before saying, "I'd wish for the ability to fly. Then I could just spread my wings and take off and never look back at this mess…"

He trailed off, suddenly realizing just how close they were. It would have been so easy for him to move another couple of inches, to kiss her. Astrid seemed to be thinking along the same lines: her body was tense, but her face tilted upward a little hopefully.

Then Hinrik drew back, looking away. "Of course, it's something I can't have," he murmured. He smiled sadly. "Well…good night, Astrid. And…thank you."

He hesitated for the briefest moment before leaning forward, planting a little kiss on Astrid's cheek. She inhaled sharply in surprise, but before she could say anything Hinrik had retreated into the ship, closing the door behind him with a snap. He didn't look back at her, not wanting her to see that he was blushing. Astrid continued to gaze at the door for several minutes, one hand unconsciously going up to the spot he'd kissed. How strange, she thought. Normally she'd have punched any man who even thought about kissing her. She ought to be regretting that she hadn't made him suffer for his action.

Instead the only regret she had was that she didn't get a chance to kiss him back.

**A/N: I owe most of this chapter to UnderTheWillowTrees, who also used "For the Dancing and the Dreaming" in her **_**Titanic **_**story. But seriously, how could I not? It works so well! And I admit, I freaking love the song, so I had to borrow it. You can thank her too for the bit about Hinrik wanting to fly, which will of course come back into play in a very well-known scene coming up, and for the little kiss Hinrik gives Astrid. Thanks again for your generosity, UnderTheWillowTrees! **


	9. Chapter 8: A Heart Divided

Chapter Eight

A Heart Divided

Sunday, April 14, 1912

Bright early morning sunlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating the suite that Hinrik and his father shared. Hinrik and Heather, who was visiting, were seated in the sitting room, silently sipping tea from brand-new white teacups. Heather was glaring rather openly at her fiancé, who pretended not to notice, choosing instead to gaze absently at a potted plant in the corner. He was thinking about Astrid, remembering the smile that had been on her face as they'd danced, recalling the way the stars had reflected in her sapphire eyes. He ran a hand subconsciously through his hair, pausing a moment over the spot where Astrid's braids had been the night before. He'd hated having to remove them but they'd have led to some pretty awkward questions.

He wondered if he should have told her how he felt, poured his heart out to her, confessed that even though he'd known her for such a short time he was starting to become rather fond of her.

His thoughts were interrupted by Heather, who set her teacup and saucer down on the little table between them a little harder than necessary, making the china rattle. "Where were you last night?" she demanded.

Hinrik looked up at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Your father told me you weren't in your room when he turned in," Heather said, crossing her arms. "He seemed to think you were getting some fresh air, but I want to know where you were."

Hinrik barely suppressed a sigh and replied, "I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk on the Boat Deck." It wasn't a lie, not really. He _had_, after all, walked along the Boat Deck with Astrid before saying good night.

Heather raised her eyebrows. "Really?" she said softly. "And did your walk take you down into steerage, by any chance?"

Hinrik stiffened. _She knew? _"How…" Then he sighed in understanding. "I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me, how typical."

"You will not go down there again, Hinrik, do you understand me?" Heather said, her voice low and menacing. "You will not seek out the Hofferson girl, and you will never behave the way you did last night."

Hinrik scowled. "You can't tell me what I can and cannot do, Heather," he snapped. "You may be my fiancée, but that doesn't give you the right—"

"You're right," Heather interrupted. "I am your fiancée…for now."

Hinrik blinked. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean," Heather said, leaning forward and speaking slowly, as if he was hard of hearing, "that if you ever speak to that girl again, I will call off this engagement. And then how will you pay for your mother's medication?"

Hinrik suddenly found that he couldn't breathe. He gaped at her in silence for a few seconds before he managed to gasp, "How did you—"

"That doesn't matter," Heather said, standing up. "What does matter is that we will be on this ship until Wednesday, unless we arrive early. And until then you will be on your best behavior if you want any chance of saving your mother." She paused. "Is this in any way unclear?"

Hinrik grit his teeth and resisted the urge to throw the contents of his teacup into her face. "No," he muttered, so quietly that she almost didn't hear him.

She did, though, and her lips curved in a satisfied smile that in no way enhanced her beauty. "Good. Now I'm going to go change for the worship service." She reached out and brushed her hand against Hinrik's cheek. "See you later, Hiccup dear." And she walked over to the door and left.

Hinrik didn't move from his spot for several minutes, too stunned to do more than put his teacup down on the table with trembling fingers.

_I should have known better_, he thought. _I should have known not to get involved with Astrid. Heather's right, I need to think about Mother. Her life depends on this marriage. I can't mess this up… _

The bedroom door opened and Stanford emerged, dressed in his best suit for the divine service. By his expression Hinrik guessed he had heard part of the exchange between him and Heather. At any rate he seemed genuinely concerned when he asked, "You all right there, son?"

Hinrik took a breath to steady himself before saying, "Yes, Father, I'm fine." He got up and walked toward the bedroom, intending to change, but Stanford blocked his path, looking a little uncomfortable. He frowned. "What is it?"

"Well, uh…I wanted to talk to you, son."

"Okay," Hinrik said slowly, uneasily. He didn't like the sound of Stanford's voice, like he was trying to figure out how best to deliver some bad news.

"Well…" Stanford glanced at the closed door Heather had just left through and asked, "Are you…happy, son?"

The question was so random that Hinrik blinked and didn't answer for a few seconds. At length, however, he replied, "Of course I am, Father. Why wouldn't I be?"

Stanford hesitated. "This marriage…it's what you want?"

"Yes, of course it is," Hinrik said, perhaps a little too forcefully. "Why on earth are you asking me this?"

"Do you love her? Heather?"

"I…" The words got stuck in Hinrik's throat and he couldn't answer. He swallowed and looked away.

Stanford seemed to understand. "That's what I figured," he sighed. "Son, about the Hofferson girl—"

"I know," Hinrik interrupted. "I won't see her again, I promise."

But Stanford shook his head. "That's not what I was going to say." Hinrik looked back at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. Stanford sighed again and continued, "Is there…anything between you two…?"

"No," Hinrik said quickly. Too quickly. Stanford's eyebrow lifted, and Hinrik clarified, "I mean, I like her. But not…not like that…besides, I'm engaged, remember?"

Stanford nodded. "Yes, I know. Which brings me to…" He paused. "Son, are you marrying Miss Owens merely for the money? To save your mother?"

"God," Hinrik groaned. "Does _everyone _on this ship know?"

Stanford chuckled weakly. "No, I don't think so, son. My point is, you shouldn't marry Heather if you're just after her money. Saving your mother is a noble thing, Hinrik, and God knows I don't want her to…well…but remember, you're going to live with the consequences of your decision for the rest of your life. And if marrying Heather will make you miserable—"

"But if I don't marry her, then Mother will die!" Hinrik hissed. "I don't have a choice!"

"Yes you do," Stanford said patiently, putting his hands on Hinrik's shoulders. "Listen to me, Hinrik. I don't want you to be unhappy. And neither does your mother. I'm sure she would tell you to follow your heart on this one, son. She won't hold it against you if you choose not to marry Heather, even if it means losing the money. And neither will I." He pulled Hinrik into an embrace, and Hinrik stiffened. His father hadn't hugged him since he was a child. "My poor son," Stanford sighed. "So young and with the weight of the world on your shoulders. It isn't fair, and I know it." He released Hinrik and pulled back to look his son in the eye. "You don't have to make your decision now. Think about it. We'll be reaching New York on Wednesday, and if you want to be with the Hofferson girl instead of Heather, I'll understand." He smiled as Hinrik blinked in disbelief. "I saw the way you were looking at her last night, son. You needn't be so surprised. Your mother was a third class girl too, remember?"

Hinrik didn't reply. Indeed, he didn't know what to say.

"Just promise me you'll consider it," Stanford said. "Think it over, and remember what I've said. At the end of the day, all I want is for you to be happy. The rest will work itself out one way or another. All right?"

Hinrik finally unstuck his throat and said, "Okay. I'll…I'll think about it." Then he smiled weakly and added, "Thanks…Dad."

Stanford inhaled sharply. Hinrik hadn't called him "Dad" in over ten years, always sticking to the formal title of "Father." But as the sound of it echoed in Stanford's ears, he realized just how much he'd missed hearing that one simple word.

…

Hinrik, true to his promise, did think about it. He thought about nothing else as he headed down to the dining saloon for the church service, Heather clutching his arm as if afraid he'd wander off if she let go. He was still warring with himself as they sat down in chairs that had been lined up in the space where tables had been, facing a podium where the captain would lead them in worship.

Happiness. Stanford just wanted his son to be happy with the choices he made in life. Hinrik knew he couldn't be happy in a marriage with Heather. For God's sake, the thought of living the rest of his days with her at his side was so repulsive that he'd nearly jumped off the back of the ship. He probably would have, too, except Astrid had been there to…

His thoughts ground to a halt. Astrid. He'd only known her for a little more than a day, yet he felt oddly certain that he could be happy with her. She was so lighthearted, free-spirited, joyful, always smiling or laughing, always seeking the silver lining behind every cloud. She was such a stark contrast to him, who looked to his future with dread, knowing that no joy could be found there. Maybe she was what he needed, the perfect compliment, a way to balance him out. Yes, he thought he could be happy with Astrid. At the very least she would be an improvement over Heather…

…except Astrid didn't have the money to pay for Mother's medication. And despite what Stanford had said, he knew he'd feel guilty if he turned away from the chance to save her. How on earth was he supposed to find happiness if that happened?

_So basically, I won't be happy no matter which course of action I take_, Hinrik thought, and his heart sank.

"Oh great," Heather huffed, and Hinrik looked over at her. She was glaring back toward the entrance of the saloon. "Third class is joining us."

Hinrik whipped his head around to look. Sure enough, there was a cluster of nervous-looking steerage passengers huddled together, looking distinctly out of place amid the opulence of the first class décor.

"All classes are allowed here just for the service, dear," said Grant from Heather's other side.

Heather sniffed, clearly opposed to this policy, but Hinrik didn't even glance at her. Astrid had just entered the dining saloon.

She was wearing what was no doubt her finest dress, a faded black piece that almost trailed the floor, and her hair was back in its usual braid. Compared to the first class women she looked downright shabby, but to Hinrik she was the most beautiful person in the room. His heart ached at the sight of her as she scanned the room, clearly looking for him.

Their eyes met, and she smiled. Hinrik rather thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

Then he felt Heather's eyes on him, and he turned around quickly, facing the front. His heart, still just moments before, suddenly started hammering in his chest. He shouldn't have looked. He shouldn't have caught her eye. Now she was going to come and sit next to him because there was an empty seat and he was going to end up between her and Heather and dear God in heaven what was he going to _do_…?

As he predicted, Astrid sat down on his left side. She smiled at him and whispered, "Good morning, Hinrik. Did you sleep well?"

Without looking at her, Hinrik replied stiffly, "Very well, thank you, Miss Hofferson."

Astrid's smile flickered and she blinked in surprise at his tone. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Everything's fine," Hinrik said coolly. _No, nothing's fine, Astrid, because all I want to do it hug you and kiss you and tell you that I want to be with you and I can't because Heather's right beside me and if I even look at you she'll call off the engagement and my mother will die. _

"Okay," Astrid murmured, sounding bewildered and hurt. The service started then, much to Hinrik's relief. He didn't know what he'd have done if she'd spoken to him again. Probably something stupid.

As it was, he found it impossible to concentrate on the service. With Astrid shooting him covert questioning glances on his left and Heather watching him carefully for any slipups on his right, it was all he could do to stop himself from jumping up and running from the room. He bowed his head when they prayed and stood and sang with everyone else, though he would never remember what hymn was being played. He spent the entire service trying to think of a way to explain everything to Astrid without actually saying a word to her. Needless to say, he couldn't come up with anything.

When the service ended, however, the problem was taken out of his hands. Astrid grabbed his arm and physically pulled him around so that he was forced to face her. He inhaled sharply as their eyes met. There was a world of unspoken emotions in her gaze, confusion, hurt, anger, sympathy, yearning all rolled together in a nameless swirl that threatened to engulf him. "Hinrik?" she murmured.

Hinrik opened his mouth but nothing came out but a faint croak. He snapped his jaw shut and broke eye contact, his face coloring. He could feel Heather staring at him, watching and listening carefully.

"Hinrik, what's wrong?" Now Astrid sounded worried. She'd seen something in his eyes, caught a glimpse of the conflict raging between his head and his heart and was concerned for him.

He gently pulled away, removing his arm from her grip. Her hand fell limp at her side and she made no move to reach for him again. He glanced up once more and shook his head minutely, a motion so slight that even Heather, standing just behind him, didn't pick up on it. But he could tell Astrid saw it, for her expression fell. Feeling heartbroken and terribly guilty for hurting her, Hinrik tried to apologize with his eyes. Then he turned away, taking Heather's arm and allowing her to lead him away. He resisted the urge to look behind him, knowing Astrid was still back there, watching him depart. He was uncomfortably aware of the pressure Heather's fingers were putting on his forearm but didn't try to extricate himself. Yet he couldn't stop the wave of utter hatred that rose in his throat directed at the woman who was manipulating him like a puppet.

_This is wrong_, he thought. _I should go back. I should apologize to Astrid and explain everything. I should tell her that I want to be with her and not this heartless monster on my arm. _

But he didn't.

…

Heather suggested a walk along the Boat Deck after lunch, which Stanford, Gunnar, and Grant all agreed to enthusiastically. So Hinrik found himself strolling along in the chilly afternoon air alongside his father. Mercifully Heather was up with her father, chatting away without a care in the world, giving Hinrik a chance to breathe freely for a few minutes.

They passed a cluster of four lifeboats lined up along the edge of the deck, and more to distract himself than anything else, Hinrik asked, "Father, how many lifeboats are there?"

"Sixteen," Stanford replied. "Plus four collapsibles for a total of twenty."

Hinrik paused and looked up at him, frowning. "Twenty?" he repeated, and then he thought. "No…that can't be right."

"Why not, son?" Stanford asked, confused.

"Each boat can only hold, what? Sixty people or so?"

"Aye, that's right," his father replied, nodding.

Hinrik did some quick mental math and felt his heart sink even further, which in and of itself was a remarkable feat. "Then that means…there aren't enough boats for everyone on board."

"Correct," Stanford confirmed. "About half, in fact."

He sounded so unconcerned about this that Hinrik gaped at him. "But…Father, what happens if the ship gets into trouble? Won't a lot of people be left to drown?"

"Of course not," Stanford said, sounding surprised at the mere suggestion. "Son, lifeboats are ferries, nothing more. If the ship were to run into trouble, the captain would send out a distress call. When a rescue ship arrived, the boats would be used as ferries to transfer passengers from this ship to the other one. There's hardly a need for more than what's already here. And besides, the _Titanic_'s unsinkable, remember? So there won't be any need for lifeboats at all."

_Unsinkable? _The word stirred something in Hinrik's memory, and the image of a book floated to the surface of his mind. The title _Futility _was stamped across the cover, and he suddenly remembered the story he'd read about the fictional ship that had run into an iceberg and sank, killing most of her passengers because she didn't have enough lifeboats. She too was considered unsinkable, yet she had gone straight to the bottom. And now the _Titanic_, already too close to the _Titan _for his liking, had yet another thing in common with the fictional ship: a shortage of lifeboats.

"Great," he muttered as his father continued walking, apparently thinking the conversation was over. "Because I didn't have enough on my mind already."

…

At the aft well deck, Astrid motioned for Riley, Terry, Sven, and Finn to hurry up. Together they climbed the stairs to B Deck and stepped one by one over the short gate separating third class from second.

"Astrid, you're being silly," Riley said. "I mean, sure, he's handsome…" Both Sven and Finn looked at her, stung, but she ignored them. "…but he's in another world! Forget him. He's closed the door."

But Astrid shook her head. She'd thought of nothing but Hinrik's rejection ever since the service ended, and she'd come to the conclusion that he'd only behaved that way because Heather was there. She must have threatened him somehow. So, she figured, if she got Hinrik on his own, he would open up to her again.

At least, she hoped he would.

Rather than explaining this to her friends, she merely said, "It was them that closed the door, not him. Now come on." She moved furtively toward the wall below the A Deck promenade. Sighing, Sven and Finn joined her, crouching down and making a stirrup out of their interlocking fingers. Astrid put her foot in their hands and they raised her up just high enough so that she could peek over the edge. Satisfied the coast was clear, she hissed, "Go!" and they hoisted her up and over. She scrambled nimbly over the railing and back into first class.

"She's not being logical," Sven muttered.

Glancing back at Riley, Finn smiled and replied, "Love isn't logical."

Once on A Deck, Astrid walked briskly but calmly down the promenade in the direction of the grand staircase. She hoped Hinrik would be on the Boat Deck, though she had no way of knowing if he was or not. Still, it was a place to start looking. She kept her eyes up and her demeanor proud, hoping this would prevent anyone from seeing her for what she was: an escapee from steerage. She was lucky: she made it to the staircase and up to the Boat Deck without incident. Her luck held as she spotted Hinrik and his father hanging back around one of the lifeboats, talking about something. Soon afterward, Stanford kept walking, though Hinrik remained where he was for a moment. Her heart leapt and she seized her chance.

She darted forward and grabbed Hinrik by the arm. He whirled around and his eyes widened in shock. "Astrid!" he breathed. "What are you doing?!"

Astrid shook her head and gestured toward a nearby door. Without waiting for him to put it together, she dragged him toward it and shoved him inside the empty gymnasium, following after him and closing the door behind her.

"Astrid, this is impossible," he said without preamble. "I can't see you."

"I need to talk to you," Astrid insisted, standing in front of the door so he couldn't escape.

"Astrid…" Hinrik sighed, looking more miserable than Astrid had ever seen him. And as she'd seen him when he was prepared to jump off the ship, this was saying something. "I'm engaged. I'm marrying Heather. I…I love Heather." Astrid raised one eyebrow skeptically, and he quickly added, "Or at the very least I'll learn to love her with time."

"Hinrik," Astrid said, "you and I both know that's not true. You don't love her and you never will. I'm not an idiot. I know how the world works. I understand why you're marrying her and believe me, I think it's noble of you, but…" She paused and reached out to touch his cheek. He flinched slightly but didn't draw back. "…but if you marry that woman, you will be miserable. I know you will. And I can't just turn away without knowing you'll be all right. I'm too involved now. You jump, I jump, remember?"

Hinrik looked into her eyes, and she could see him trying to shut the door on the storm brewing within him. "It's not up to you to save me, Astrid."

It was then that Astrid realized something. He was right. Not only was it not up to her, it was completely out of her hands. No matter how hard she fought, no matter how much she tried, she was physically incapable of saving Hinrik. Not if he was unwilling to save himself. She wouldn't have been able to pull him back over if he hadn't given her his hand, and she wouldn't be able to save him now if he didn't open up to her. And clearly he wasn't going to do that.

There was nothing more to be done.

"You're right," she said quietly, and her voice quavered slightly. "Only you can do that."

Hinrik blinked, but before he could say anything more Astrid punched him on the arm. He winced but, to his credit, didn't cry out. "That's for involving me." Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. She would have found it funny under other circumstances, but now it left her feeling as though a great prize had been snatched away from her at the last minute. "That's for everything else."

And without another word she turned and left the gymnasium, determined not to let Hinrik see her cry.

**A/N: First off, I took Hinrik and Heather out of the parlour suite with the private promenade shown in the film because there were only two on the ship and both were occupied by well-known people. I understand that Cameron took some liberties in order to show the audience the best first class had to offer and I respect that, but I don't feel that's necessary for my story. So they're in one of the other suites. **

**Second, yes, second and third class were allowed to attend services in the first class dining saloon. It was the only time the lower classes were permitted into first class. **


	10. Chapter 9: Decision

**A/N: Wow! 44 reviews! That makes this my most-reviewed story on this site! Thank you all so much! You guys are awesome! **

Chapter Nine

Decision

Hinrik looked around the rich paneling of the first class smoking room and wished he'd have thought to come here earlier in the voyage. True, the endless droning on business and politics bored him to no end and the smell of cigar smoke made his eyes water, but this was a male-only domain. It was the only area of the ship where Heather couldn't reach him.

He glanced over at Stanford, who was talking with Gunnar and Grant about something, Hinrik had missed what exactly. He'd underestimated his father. He'd always assumed he'd wanted his son to be wealthy and prosperous, to fit in with the rest of first class society, mingle only with those of his social standing, marry a rich girl, offer him beautiful grandchildren. Never once had he realized that Stanford really did want him to be happy. They'd never really seen eye-to-eye on anything before. There had been a time when he was a teenager that Stanford had tried to sell Tempest, believing Hinrik was shirking his responsibilities in order to spend time with a horse. If his mother hadn't intervened on his behalf, he'd have lost his best friend. But this sentimental side of Stanford was one that Hinrik had never seen before, and he knew it was genuine. His father wanted him to be happy.

But what did that mean? Did it mean saving his mother? True, it would make him happy to have his mother live longer, but at what cost? He glanced around the room. If he continued on his current course, this is where he'd end up. This was the kind of person he'd be expected to be. A stuffy, pompous rich man with nothing better to do with his time than argue over politics, smoking cigars, drinking the finest champagne and eating the caviar he detested so much.

No. That wasn't happiness, and he knew it.

And he also knew where he could find it.

He stood up abruptly, looking significantly at his father as he said, "Would you excuse me, please?"

Stanford might have noticed the gleam in his son's eyes, for he positively beamed at him when he replied, "Of course." Hinrik nodded his head and offered the barest ghost of a smile before hurrying off. Stanford watched him depart and continued to stare at the door long after he'd disappeared through it, wondering if he was going to have a new future daughter-in-law by the end of the night.

…

Astrid stood at the apex of the bow, leaning heavily on the railing and staring down into the sea below. The sun was setting, throwing a beautiful golden-pink light over the ship, but she hardly noticed. Right now she hated anything and everything beautiful in the world. She hated herself most of all for allowing herself to walk into the trap she'd set for herself. She should have known better, yet she'd allowed him into her heart and now…

"Hello, Astrid."

Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice and she turned around. He stood a few paces back, his hair blowing in the wind, a small smile on his face.

"I changed my mind."

Astrid blinked, and then she smiled, her heart bounding in her chest at his words. How simple they were, yet how much they altered everything.

He stepped toward her. "Riley said you might be up—"

Astrid put a finger to her mouth and shushed him. Then she gestured for him to join her. "Come here."

Smiling, Hinrik did as told, stepping up to her and taking her hand in his. His palm was warm, whereas hers was a little cool from being exposed to the chilly evening air. He ran his thumb over her skin, and she suppressed a little shiver.

She smiled. "Last night, you told me that you'd like to fly."

Hinrik looked confused but said, "Yes."

Astrid stepped back, gently pulling him closer to the point of the bow. "Come fly with me," she offered.

When Hinrik still didn't get it, she giggled and let go of his hand, turning toward the rail and stepping up onto it. Remembering when he'd done the same thing a few nights ago, Hinrik gasped and reached out for her. "No!"

Astrid glanced back with a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Hinrik. Trust me."

Hinrik considered for a moment and then relaxed. "I trust you."

She held out her hand again, and he took it, stepping closer. "Come on," Astrid whispered. "Come fly with me."

Hinrik, still a little perplexed, stepped up onto the lowest rail so that he was positioned directly behind her. The closeness of their bodies made his heart quicken. Astrid grinned and held out her arms to the side. Hinrik hesitated and then imitated her, looking down at the girl in front of him uncertainly. Noticing his gaze, Astrid laughed softly and said, "Look, Hinrik. Look up."

Hinrik blinked and then looked. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. From his position it was easy to forget there was a ship beneath him. All he could see was ocean rushing past. The Atlantic unrolled toward him, an endless span of shimmering blue bathed in the golden light of the sun. With his arms outstretched and Astrid pressed against him, he really felt as if he had left the _Titanic _entirely, the two of them soaring off into the sunset with no one to stop them or tear them apart. For the first time in his life, Hinrik felt true, delicious freedom.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "We're flying."

Astrid hummed and nodded, resting her head back on his shoulder. She pushed her arms back slightly so that her hands brushed his, their fingertips first touching, and then intertwining. She felt him trembling, so lost in the ecstasy of weightlessness that he couldn't contain himself. His heart hammered against her spine, each beat a loving tap reminding her of how close he was, yet it wasn't close enough.

She started singing softly:

"_My dearest one, my darling dear_

_Your mighty words astound me_

_But I've no need of mighty deeds…_"

She gently pulled his hands forward so that they wrapped around her, holding her and cradling her.

"…_When I feel your arms around me…_"

Hinrik turned his head so that he was gazing into her face. She was mere inches away, her eyes soft and glowing, her lips slightly open, inviting. He hesitated for the briefest moment, an image of Heather's face intruding on his thoughts. But he pushed it aside and blocked it entirely. Now was not about Heather. He'd deal with all that later. Now it was just him and Astrid, the two of them here, almost joined but not quite.

He fixed that problem when he finally inched forward, his lips tentatively brushing hers. She responded immediately, kissing him with a fervor he hadn't known was possible. So he kissed her back, moving his mouth with hers, soft yet passionate. In that moment nothing else existed, not Heather, not Grant, not his mother's illness, not their class differences, not even the _Titanic_.

…

"Are you sure about this, Hinrik?" Astrid asked, glancing nervously over her shoulder as Hinrik unlocked his stateroom door. "This doesn't seem…proper…"

Hinrik gave her a rather wild, reckless smile and replied with a faint laugh, "There's nothing proper about this." He opened the door and ushered her inside. "Come on in. This is the sitting room."

"Sitting room?" Astrid repeated, gazing around in awe at the opulence. "It's bigger than my whole cabin! And I share it with two other people!"

"Yeah, well…first class…" Hinrik said with an awkward shrug. "Make yourself at home, milady."

Astrid giggled at the nickname and sat down gingerly on a couch. "Wow…this is nice," she acknowledged, looking around. "So elegant, regal…I feel like a queen in this room."

Hinrik grinned and bowed to her. "Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?" he asked teasingly.

Astrid rolled her eyes and reached out to grab his arm, pulling him onto the couch beside her. "Yes. Come here, you."

Hinrik laughed as he took her into his arms, kissing her lightly. They broke apart and Astrid, grinning, shifted a little to make room for him. Her eyes fell on something lying on the table. "What's this?" she asked, picking it up.

"Oh…that's…my sketchbook," Hinrik said, sounding nervous. "Remember how I told you I like to draw? I pulled it out earlier to try to relieve some tension." He laughed hollowly. "It didn't work."

"May I?" Astrid asked, and when Hinrik nodded she opened the sketchbook. She gasped as she looked at a portrait of his father. It was accurate down to the finest detail. If she hadn't known better she'd have said it was a photograph. He was clearly a perfectionist: not a line was out of place. "Wow," she breathed. "Hinrik, this…this is amazing. You don't give yourself enough credit."

She flipped the page, revealing a sketch of an English manor house. Each line was perfectly straight and level, and she could feel the stateliness of the mansion leaping off the page. "And you told me you weren't very good!" she scoffed. "You're incredible! I take back what I said yesterday. You could totally make a living as an artist."

Hinrik laughed. "I'm glad you think so."

Astrid continued looking at his sketches for a while, _ooh_-ing and complimenting each one individually. She was particularly fond of one he'd drawn of a dragon, its wings spread in flight. There was such grace and elegance in the smooth lines, yet she also felt an underlying current of sheer power and strength.

After a moment, she smiled and handed the book back to him, even though she hadn't seen all the sketches yet. "Draw me," she said.

Hinrik's eyes widened. "What?"

"Do a sketch of me," Astrid clarified. "I want to see you at work."

Hinrik grinned and stood up. "Okay. I'll be right back. Find a comfortable position on that couch, I'll need you to hold still for a while."

She did as she was told, settling on relaxing back into the cushions, one arm resting carelessly on the armrest. Hinrik retreated into the bedroom and returned a moment later with a pencil in his hand. Grinning, he took a seat in a chair opposite the couch. "All right," he said with a breath. "Hold perfectly still for me. That's it. Keep your eyes on me." He nodded, satisfied, opened the book to a blank page, and started to sketch.

He started with faint strokes, the lines joining and interconnecting to form the vaguest suggestion of a human shape. He spent more time studying her than he did looking at the paper, yet his movements were certain and unhesitant. "So serious," Astrid teased, and he cracked a smile but didn't pause in his work.

His lines got darker as he started filling in the details, starting at her head and working his way down. He carefully drew the contours of her body, capturing each curve and dip with perfect accuracy. He sketched her fingers, imitating the way they rested so languidly on the armrest and in her lap. He shaded carefully in areas that were in shadow, the folds of her dress, the side of her face not exposed to the light. He perfectly copied the shape of her eyes and lips, capturing the faint smile she wore.

And he even managed to draw the spark that shone in her eyes, that light he loved so very much.

…

Milton walked up to where Heather sat in the first class lounge and said, "None of the stewards have seen him, miss."

Heather looked coldly up at him and huffed. In a low yet forceful voice she hissed, "This is absurd. It's a ship, there's only so many places he can be!" She sighed and, looking as though she was struggling to remain calm, asked, "Did you check his stateroom?"

"I tried to, miss," Milton replied. "But the door was locked and no one answered when I knocked."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Then go talk to Mr. Haddock and ask to borrow his key. Make up some excuse. Then go down there and check." She leaned forward slightly and added with a faint hint of menace, "Milton, if you value your job, _find him!_"

…

"Finished!" Hinrik announced, setting down his pencil.

Astrid stood up and stretched before hurrying over to stand beside him. Her eyes widened as she gazed down at her likeness. "Oh my God," she said. "That's…you're incredible, Hinrik!"

He smiled and carefully tore the page out of the book, standing up and handing the paper to her. "For you, milady." He grinned.

Astrid accepted the drawing, blushing yet clearly happy. "I'll treasure it always," she promised. She placed it down on the table so she could reach up and pull Hinrik close, kissing him, running her hands through his hair. Hinrik moaned quietly and wrapped his arms around her waist. Their bodies pressed together and their hearts pounded with excitement…

There was a knock at the door. "Mr. Haddock?" came Milton's wheezy voice from the hall. "Are you in there?"

They broke apart and looked at the door, frozen in sudden fear. The doorknob rattled, but Hinrik had been smart enough to lock it when they'd entered. They had a few seconds to act before Milton would have the key in. Hinrik motioned silently for Astrid to follow him into the bedroom, which she did. On the threshold she paused and looked back. "My drawing!" she gasped. She'd left it on the table, but there was no time to go back for it now. They could hear Milton turning the key in the lock.

Hinrik closed the bedroom door, trying to be silent but it clicked audibly just the same. Swearing under his breath, he led Astrid to the other door, which opened into the corridor. They hurried down the hallway toward the grand staircase, trying to look at ease while putting as much distance between themselves and Milton as they possibly could. They exchanged quick glances and grinned a little wildly.

They heard a door open and glanced back over their shoulders. Their grins quickly vanished: Milton was coming after them.

"Run!" Hinrik cried, seizing Astrid's hand and pulling her toward the staircase, laughing. Behind them, Milton cursed and broke into a slow jog, the fastest speed the old man could handle. Hinrik and Astrid hurtled toward a row of elevators, finding to their relief that one had just arrived and deposited an elderly couple, who looked on in wide-eyed bewilderment as the two young lovers darted past them into the lift. The operator gaped at them. "Down, take us down!" Hinrik ordered as Astrid pulled the gate shut. "Quickly!"

The operator obeyed and the elevator began to descend just as Milton arrived, slamming into the gate with a snarl. Hinrik and Astrid grinned up at him, and then Hinrik did something he'd been yearning to do since he'd first met the man: he lifted his middle finger. The operator looked flabbergasted but Astrid laughed.

The lift took them down to E Deck, where Hinrik and Astrid spilled out of it, giggling madly. They took off down the corridor, their hands joined, and hurtled down a stairwell to the very bottom. They didn't stop until they passed through a swinging door and hid behind it, peeking through a circular window to see if they'd been spotted.

"Pretty tough for a valet, this fella," Astrid remarked in between gasps for breath. "Seems more like a cop."

"I think he was," Hinrik replied, which made Astrid laugh again. Then he stiffened. "Uh-oh." Astrid followed his gaze and saw Milton through the little window. He'd seen them and was heading their way. "Go!"

They kept running, hurtling around a corner and right into a blind alley. Astrid cursed, but Hinrik spotted a door with a sign that read "Crew Only" and yanked it open. An awful roaring was coming from inside but this wasn't a time to be choosy. "Get in!" he cried, ushering Astrid through before ducking in after her. He slammed the door shut just as Milton reached it. The old man tugged on the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. Hinrik had locked it from the other side. Thwarted, Milton bellowed, "You'll pay for this!" But neither Hinrik nor Astrid heard him.

**A/N: I don't know if you've noticed it yet or not, but I'm not sticking entirely to the Cameron script with this. Even though Hinrik is the Rose character and Astrid is the Jack character, I see enough of both characters in each of them that, really, they're kind of interchangeable. This is why Hinrik is the one sketching Astrid instead of the other way around. I hope I'm not confusing anyone with my flip-flopping back and forth, but I'm trying my hardest to keep both Hinrik and Astrid in character. **

**And yes, I kept the sketching scene G-rated. These are characters from a family film franchise and I'm not comfortable undressing them. At all. So there will be no sex scene either. **

**Also, I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but I'm using the Illustrated Screenplay of the Cameron film for a good many of these scenes. So the dialogue that isn't in the film and even some of the descriptions are coming from that. Of course some bits are entirely my own, but most of it is being adapted either from the film or the original script. Just so you know. **


	11. Chapter 10: Collision

Chapter Ten

Collision

A few minutes later Hinrik and Astrid emerged onto the forward well deck, their laughter ringing out clearly in the late night air. From the fan room, which they'd ducked into to lose Milton, they'd taken a ladder down into one of the boiler rooms. They had run through it, avoiding stokers shoveling coal into the massive boilers that powered the _Titanic_'s three propellers. Several of the men had paused in their work to watch them fly past with bemused expressions on their faces, and a couple had even tried to tell them off for being in a crew-only area. But they'd just kept on running until they'd wound up in one of the cargo holds, and from there a short staircase led up to a door which opened out onto the well deck. Confident that Milton had no chance of catching up to them, they paused for a moment to catch their breath, still giggling like schoolchildren.

"That was fun," Astrid remarked as Hinrik pulled her into his arms. Their breath was coming out in puffs of mist in the freezing air, but neither of them felt the cold in their excitement.

Slowly their laughter died down until they simply stared down at each other, their faces inches apart. The ship's lights reflected in their eyes, and in that moment Hinrik decided that Astrid, flushed, sweating slightly, but still grinning, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"When the ship docks," he said, "I'm getting off with you."

Astrid's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He had basically just said he was throwing away his engagement to Heather and any chance he had at paying for his mother's medicine for her. Feeling her heart swell with joy she said, "This is crazy."

"I know," Hinrik chuckled. "It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it."

He pulled her to him and kissed her tenderly. This kiss was somehow different than the others they had shared tonight. Those kisses had been tentative, experimental, exploratory. But this one was fervent, passionate, almost fierce in its intensity. She kissed him back with every ounce of energy she could put into it. In that moment she knew she loved this man. She loved Hinrik Haddock and would follow him to the ends of the world if he asked her to.

They were so wrapped up in their feelings that they didn't hear the three clangs of the crow's nest bell. Nor did they hear the sudden flurry of activity on the bridge as the officers on duty responded to the sudden crisis. They were still locked at the lips, exchanging wordless vows of love and devotion, silent promises of timeless loyalty and boundless adoration.

They didn't break apart until they felt the deck shudder under their feet.

"What the…" Astrid murmured, looking down. "What was that?"

Hinrik frowned and looked up, searching for anything that could explain both the trembling of the ship and the faintest metallic grinding sound his ears were picking up.

A moment later, the mystery was solved.

He gasped as a huge white shape loomed out of the darkness on the ship's starboard side. His first wild thought was that it was a ship's sail, and then he thought it was a small mountain and that the _Titanic _had somehow run aground.

And then reality caught up with him, and he realized what it was.

An iceberg.

As it slid past, fragments of ice broke off in giant chunks and cascaded to the deck below. "Look out!" Hinrik cried, pulling Astrid out of harm's way as pieces of the berg came crashing down, pelting the ship like massive frozen raindrops.

A moment later the iceberg had passed. Hinrik and Astrid rushed to the starboard rail and leaned over, watching as the mountain of ice moved aft down the side of the ship. A minute or two later it was totally lost to the darkness.

Different people in different parts of the ship experienced different reactions to the collision. Heather, who was sitting in her stateroom, answered the door when Milton knocked. She fumed when he told her that he'd lost Hinrik and Astrid somewhere belowdecks, and her fury only increased when she realized that the girl had been in Hinrik's stateroom. Her face contorted into a snarl. What nerve Hinrik had! Oh, he was going to pay dearly for this. "Find my father and Mr. Haddock and tell them to meet me at once," she barked.

As Milton hurried off to obey, Heather felt the floor rumble slightly. It was so faint that she wasn't sure she'd felt anything at all and soon dismissed it outright. She had much more important matters to deal with.

Down below in steerage, however, there was no possibility of simply dismissing it. Sven and Finn, who shared a room at the ship's bow, were asleep in their berths when the _Titanic _struck the iceberg, though they were instantly awoken by a shrill, metallic screeching sound accompanied by a shaking so severe that Finn was almost tossed to the floor. "What the hell?" Sven muttered, sitting up in bed and looking around in the darkness.

"What was that?" Finn whispered, sounding frightened. "Did we hit something?"

After a few moments, the shaking and grinding dissipated, and when no new sounds took their place Sven said, "I guess it wasn't important." He didn't sound convinced, however, and he and Finn both lay awake for several minutes, silently wondering. The two men who also shared their room muttered to each other in their own native language, but Sven ignored them and soon they too quieted.

Before long, however, there came the sound of a commotion from the corridor outside. Frowning, Sven climbed out of bed. "Yeow!" he yelped when his feet touched the floor, for there was water in the room high enough to cover his ankles. He switched on the light and Finn gasped. "Water!" he squeaked. "Sven we need to get out of here!"

Sven didn't need to be told twice. Pulling on his coat he wrenched the door open and led Finn into the crowded hallway."Where do we go?" he asked.

Looking down, Finn saw a group of five or six rats running aft. He pointed after them and said, "If that's the way the rats are going, that's good enough for me."

…

Back on the well deck, the atmosphere was noticeably different. A group of steerage passengers had come up from below, apparently unaware of the flooding on the lower decks, and had begun a game of soccer, kicking chunks of ice around and laughing raucously.

Hinrik and Astrid watched them for a while, still holding onto each other. They were suddenly much more aware of the cold, and they were both shivering.

Hinrik suddenly frowned. "Astrid, do you feel that?" he asked.

Astrid looked up at him. She shook her head. "No, I don't feel anything."

"Exactly," Hinrik said quietly. "The engines have stopped."

Astrid blinked and realized he was right. The steady vibrations of the deck she'd become accustomed to over the course of the voyage was now absent. The ship had come to a stop.

Hinrik led her over to the starboard rail again, ignoring the passengers playing their game, and looked down over the side. "Do you think it damaged the ship?" Astrid asked, sounding a little worried.

Hinrik considered as he squinted down at the darkness below. "I don't see anything," he said slowly (though in truth it was too dark to tell one way or another). "It didn't feel like much of a bump." He thought for a moment before concluding uncertainly, "I…think we're all right."

Despite the unsure way he said this, his words reassured Astrid, enough so that she grinned mischievously and bent down, scooping up a handful of ice. A moment later, she shoved the chunk down the back of Hinrik's shirt. He let out a high-pitched yelp and spun around on the spot trying to get it out while Astrid laughed.

He finally managed to get the ice free of his body and looked over at Astrid, who was still giggling. He grinned darkly. "Oh so you want to play like that, do you?" And before she could say anything he lunged for her, latching his arms around her and dragging her to the rail. "That's it, you're going overboard!"

"No!" Astrid squeaked, a most un-Astrid-like sound that made Hinrik double over with laughter. His grip loosened just enough for her to slip from his grasp and she took off at a run toward the stairs leading up to B Deck. Hinrik followed in hot pursuit and grabbed her around the waist, but before he could say anything he had to hurry out of the way of three men who were coming from the other direction. They all wore serious expressions on their face. Hinrik recognized one of them as the captain. He was listening to one of the men as he hurriedly said, "Boiler Room 6 is flooded eight feet above the plate, and the mail hold is worse. She's all buckled in in the forward hold."

"Can you shore up?" the captain asked.

"Not unless the pumps get ahead," the other man replied.

As they hurried past, Hinrik and Astrid's smiles faded. "This sounds bad," Astrid observed, sounding worried again.

Hinrik nodded. "Astrid…I think we should tell my father."

Astrid looked up at him and hesitated. Then she nodded. "Okay."

He took her hand and led her through a door and toward the grand staircase. There was a curious gaggle of people milling about, asking each other what had happened and swapping rumors. "I hear it was an iceberg," one woman said. "We've stopped so that we don't hit it."

"No, miss, we've dropped a propeller blade," said her companion. "We'll have to turn around and get it repaired."

Hinrik and Astrid ignored them all, making their way to the stairs. The moment his foot hit the first step, however, Hinrik paused. "Whoa," he murmured. "Do you feel that?"

Astrid took a step and felt it too: the stair wasn't quite where it was supposed to be. She couldn't figure out the problem, though. The stair hadn't moved, of course. So why would it feel any different?

Then it hit her, and judging by Hinrik's expression he'd figured it out too. The step felt off because the floor wasn't perfectly level anymore. It was leaning back just slightly, not much but just enough to be noticed.

The ship was listing forward.

**A/N: Dun dun dunnnn… And now things start getting serious. Well…more serious, I guess. XD **

**Oh, and if you're wondering where Riley and Terry are in all this, their room is at the stern. On the **_**Titanic**_**, single male third class passengers were berthed in the bow while single females and families were in the stern. Recall that Astrid won their tickets from a man traveling with his wife and son. Thus their berth would be at the other end of the ship and not affected by the flooding…yet. **

**I hope you're enjoying it! **


	12. Chapter 11: To the Lifeboats

**A/N: Thank you all again for your reviews! You guys rock! **

**A lot of you have been begging me for a happy ending. Well…truth is, I've already got the ending written. The story's finished, I'm just editing each chapter carefully before posting them. So I already know who lives and who dies. And…yes, there will be some deaths. This is, after all, the story of the **_**Titanic**_**. Only 700 people out of 2200 survived the sinking, so of course there are going to be some fatalities. As to who lives and who dies, well, my lips are sealed… **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

Chapter Eleven

To the Lifeboats

Monday, April 15, 1912

"Don't let go of my hand, okay?" Hinrik murmured to Astrid as they reached the door of his stateroom.

Astrid nodded, and Hinrik unlocked the door and swung it open. Stanford was sitting on the couch and looked up as they entered. "Father, I have to tell you…" He broke off, eyes widening. He'd just realized that Stanford wasn't the only one in the room. Grant, Heather, and Milton were all there, and they all looked very serious. For a moment Hinrik wondered if they already knew about the iceberg.

Then he saw how they were all looking at his and Astrid's joined hands, and he figured it out.

He took a deep breath and said, "Something serious has happened."

"Indeed it has," Grant huffed, looking distinctly peeved. Hinrik could only imagine what was going through the man's mind. He was probably thinking up a hundred ways to kill the foolish young man who had broken his daughter's heart.

"Oh Hinrik," Heather said, and she sounded like she was on the brink of tears. "How could you?"

Hinrik glanced at her and his eyes traveled down to her hands. His heart stuttered. She was clutching his sketch of Astrid.

_Oh great. _

"That's not what I came here to tell you," Hinrik said. "There's a problem with the ship. We've— "

Heather cut across him, "How could you do this to me, Hinrik? How could you just cast me aside like…like garbage?"

Hinrik huffed in irritation. "There are more important things going on right now than whatever's happening between us, Heather."

"How dare you?!" she fairly shrieked at him. Astrid squeezed his hand, whether out of reflex or to offer him comfort, he didn't know. "More important? What could possibly be more important than you betraying me, going back on your promise, you traitor?!"

"We've hit an iceberg," Hinrik said, looking to his father, whose eyes widened at the news. "The engines have stopped and we overheard some of the crew talking about the pumps getting ahead of the flooding. I think the ship's been damaged. I don't know how badly, but I think it would be best to get ready to go up to the Boat Deck."

There was a stunned silence. Grant was the first to break it with a muttered, "Preposterous!"

Stanford stood up. "Are you sure about this, son?"

"Positive," Hinrik replied. "I saw the iceberg myself. We both did." He glanced at Astrid, who nodded. "And we noticed that the ship seems to be listing slightly. Don't you feel it?"

Stanford frowned and looked at the floor. Now that he thought about it, it didn't feel completely level…

Heather walked forward. "Father, Mr. Haddock, may I please have a word alone with Hinrik?"

Grant nodded, and Stanford shot Hinrik a significant look – Hinrik thought it looked like a silent apology – and said, "Of course."

Hinrik sighed and turned toward Astrid, who seemed nervous. "It's fine," he said softly. "This won't take long."

Astrid hesitated and then let go of his hand. Hinrik turned and followed Heather to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Turning to face her, he said, "Look, Heather—"

She slapped him across the face. His head rocked back but he didn't make a sound. "How dare you," she hissed. "How dare you run off with that little slut after I told you to stay away from her?"

"Astrid is not a slut," Hinrik retorted coldly. "She is the kindest, most wonderful woman I've ever met. She makes me happy, Heather. Unlike you, who have done nothing but made me miserable since the day I met you."

Heather looked taken aback but her eyes still sparked with fury. Looking down at the drawing still in her hands, she tore it to shreds. Hinrik flinched but didn't say anything. "You'll regret this," she snarled as the pieces of his sketch fluttered to the floor. "I warned you what would happen if you sought out—"

"You don't have to worry about that," Hinrik interrupted. "I'm calling it off, Heather. I don't love you, I never will. Our engagement is over."

Heather's jaw dropped. She hadn't prepared for this. She'd hoped to force Hinrik to his knees begging for her forgiveness, promising that he'd do whatever she asked if she would pardon him and not call off the marriage. But now…what could she do?

"You…you can't…" she gasped.

"No?" Hinrik raised his eyebrows. "I believe I just did. True, I'll have to find a way to explain this to the family and all those who got a wedding invitation, but that's only a minor inconvenience in the long run."

"But…how will you pay for your mother's medicine?" Heather asked, and her back straightened in triumph. There. She'd found Hinrik's weak spot.

But to her utter amazement, Hinrik didn't back down. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I'll find a way. And if not…" He sighed. "…I'll live with it."

Heather just stared at him for a moment. When she didn't say anything else, Hinrik asked, "Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

She didn't answer. The abrupt end of their engagement left her totally speechless. Satisfied, Hinrik nodded once and turned back to the sitting room door.

Stanford, Grant, Milton, and Astrid were all standing right where they had been when he'd left. They all watched him, studying his face for any sign of what had happened behind the closed door. Astrid's eyes went right to the red mark on his cheek and she frowned furiously, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Right," Hinrik said, a little uncomfortable with all the attention focused on him. "Well…like I said, I think we should—"

There was a knock on the door and a steward entered. "Pardon the intrusion, sirs…and miss," he added on seeing Astrid. "I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelts and come up to the Boat Deck."

Grant's eyes widened. "Whatever for?" he demanded. "It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, sir," the steward said with a little bow of his head. "But it's the captain's orders. Please dress warmly, it's quite cold tonight." Heather emerged from the bedroom, and seeing and misinterpreting the look on her face he added, "Not to worry miss, I'm sure it's just a precaution."

"Thank you," Stanford said to him. "We'll be right up."

The steward nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Stanford looked at Hinrik. "Well, son. Let's go then." Looking over at Grant he added, "We'll see you topside."

Grant nodded and led Heather from the room. At the door, she glanced back at Hinrik but he wasn't paying attention. He was talking to Astrid.

"My lifebelt's in my room down below," she was saying. "I'd better go get it."

"I'd feel much better if you didn't," Hinrik replied. "I'm sure we can get an extra one for you."

"It's not just that," Astrid said earnestly. "Riley and Terry are down there, Hinrik. They might not know the extent of the danger, and I don't know if anyone will tell them where to go. I've got to help them."

Hinrik hesitated. The thought of Astrid going belowdecks when the ship was in trouble (he didn't dare even think the word "sinking" yet) made him feel uneasy. But he sighed and said, "All right. I'll meet you on deck." Then he kissed her and added, "Be safe."

"I will," Astrid returned with a small smile, and she left, hurrying toward the grand staircase.

Hinrik accepted his lifebelt from Stanford when he handed it over. "So," he said as they headed for the door. "What did Heather want to talk to you about?"

"I think I did most of the talking, actually," Hinrik replied, glancing around to make sure Heather and Grant weren't nearby.

"And?" Stanford looked like he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Hinrik half-smiled as he said, "I'm officially a bachelor again."

Stanford grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

They followed the crowd of first class passengers to the grand staircase and went up to A Deck, where they paused. The other people were milling about uncertainly, unaware of the nature of the situation. They were all dressed in a strange assortment, some in pajamas, others wrapped in furs. They all either had their lifebelts on or carried them over their arms. No one looked even the least bit worried, which baffled Hinrik. But then again, they all thought the ship was safe, and none of them had seen the iceberg.

"Stanford!"

The Haddocks both looked around to see Gunnar heading their way, looking rather silly in a lifebelt that was a bit too small for his stout frame. "What on earth is going on?"

"We've hit an iceberg, according to Hinrik," Stanford replied. "Apparently it damaged the ship."

"Ah," Gunnar rolled his eyes. "I rather doubt it. I expect this is some kind of business move. They want to brag that the company is the safest in the world so they drag us out of bed for no reason to put us off in little boats when there's no danger whatsoever just so they can say their passengers' safety is their priority." He shook his head. "Ridiculous."

Hinrik frowned. "I don't think that's it, Gunnar." He said. "I think the ship's in real trouble."

Gunnar eyed him curiously, apparently trying to decide whether Hinrik was overreacting or not. But before he could say anything, Grant and Heather arrived, the latter pointedly not looking at Hinrik. "Damn inconvenience," Grant muttered. "Why bother with all this when the ship is quite safe?"

"What if the ship isn't safe, Grant?" Stanford asked. "What if there really is danger?"

Grant scoffed. "Danger? To the _Titanic_? Don't be absurd. This ship is unsinkable, remember?"

Stanford said something in reply, but Hinrik didn't hear it. His heart had begun to hammer like a war drum in his chest, and the sound of his pulse filled his ears. "Unsinkable." There was that word again. A word that linked the _Titanic _to the fictional ship _Titan _from that book he'd read. Biggest ship afloat, a grand floating palace, considered to be as safe as can be and carrying too few lifeboats for everyone aboard. Both had hit an iceberg on a cold April night.

The _Titan _had gone down, taking most of her passengers with her.

Hinrik looked around the staircase at all the laughing, gossiping people. Was the _Titanic _doomed to the same fate?

After some time, they finally made their way up the staircase, though they didn't immediately go out onto the Boat Deck. The crew was still uncovering the boats, and the ship's funnels were letting out an ear-splitting roar they could hear even from inside the brightly-lit foyer. "What is making that awful noise?" Heather asked her father.

"The funnels are letting off steam," Grant explained. "Since the engines have stopped, there's nowhere else for the steam to go."

A few minutes later, the racket quieted down and the officers began putting people into the boats. "Come on," Hinrik said, leading Stanford outside. The frigid night air hit him like a slap in the face, and behind him his father grumbled, "God, it's cold!"

They gathered uncertainly near one of the boats. The officer was calling for women and children only. Grant suggested Heather go but she refused. "I will not get in that tiny little thing!" she cried. "Why would I get into a lifeboat when the ship is perfectly safe? You must be out of your mind!"

Hinrik rolled his eyes and was about to tell her that the ship was _not _perfectly safe, but as it turned out, he didn't have to. There was a loud noise and a burst of light, and they all looked up to see a white rocket explode against the black sky, sending a shower of sparks down to the sea. Though no one mentioned it, the mood immediately became more doubtful. It was easy to joke about the situation when one was convinced of safety. But everyone on the deck knew a ship didn't fire rockets at sea for no reason. It was a distress signal. They were hoping to attract the attention of any ship that may be nearby, asking them to come to their aid.

"Dear, perhaps it would be best if you got in," Grant said after a moment.

Though visibly shaken by the sight of the rocket and all its implications, Heather was still reluctant. She stepped forward slightly but made no move to get into the little wooden craft hanging in the davit. Looking around at some crewmen bustling nearby she called, "Will the lifeboats be seated according to class?"

No one answered her. They were all too busy. She huffed and looked back at the others. "I hope they're not too crowded," she remarked.

This was too much for Hinrik. "Oh Heather, shut up!" he snapped, grabbing her by the arms and forcibly turning her to face him. She gaped in shock. "Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats, not enough by half!" He glanced swiftly up the deck, his eyes scanning the people who were watching the proceedings, staying back, refusing to get into the boats. Looking back at Heather he hissed, "Half the people on this ship are going to die."

Heather recovered and glared coldly at him. "Not the better half," she retorted.

Hinrik's arms fell limp at his side. Now it was his turn to gape at her. The full implications of her words struck him. Astrid was a third class passenger. Her chances of getting into a boat were slim, and Heather knew it.

"You bitch," he snarled.

Heather turned away and looked back at the boat. Grant stepped forward and helped her clamber into the craft swinging gently over the black abyss below. She sat down on a bench and sent Hinrik a triumphant little smile.

It was this that set Hinrik into motion. Turning to Stanford and speaking loud enough for Heather to hear, he said, "Father, I'm going below. I've got to find Astrid and get her into a boat."

Heather's smile vanished but Hinrik didn't look at her. He was gazing up at his father as the man's face went pale. He seemed to be about to tell his son not to go, to stay on the Boat Deck where he was safer, but something made him stop. Maybe it was the determined look in Hinrik's eyes, a look he knew well. Once they got that gleam, there was no stopping him. So instead he smiled and said, "All right, son. Just…promise me you'll be safe."

Hinrik grinned and said, "I'll try."

Stanford opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and then pulled Hinrik into a bone-crushing hug. "I…I love you, Hinrik," he murmured, his voice shaking.

Hinrik blinked in surprise, but then he returned the embrace and said, "I love you too, Dad."

They drew apart and looked at each other for a moment. Neither of them said it, but they both knew that they were thinking the same thing: this might be the last time they saw each other. Then Stanford clapped Hinrik on the shoulder and said, "Go find her, son. Get her to safety. And…" His voice shook as he added, "…please try to save yourself as well."

Hinrik felt his throat tighten. He nodded. "I will, Dad. And you…you be safe too."

Stanford smiled weakly and released his son's shoulders. Hinrik stayed motionless for a moment longer before he turned and hurried away.

Heather watched all this with narrowed eyes. "Father," she said in a soft voice, "would you do something for me?"

"Anything, my dear," Grant replied, taking her hand.

"First of all, go back to my room and take some of my jewelry," Heather instructed. "Third class might be wandering around up here before the night's out and I don't want them to break in and steal anything. Second…" She glanced after Hinrik, who was disappearing back into the ship. "…make sure you get Hinrik into a boat. I don't care how you do it, but make sure he survives. And…" Her voice lowered to a whisper that Grant had to lean in to hear. "…make sure the Hofferson girl does not."

**A/N: I love Hiccup/Hinrik-Stoick/Stanford father-son moments! **


	13. Chapter 12: Rising Waters

**A/N: I love writing angry Hiccup/Hinrik. For some reason it makes me so happy. Maybe it's some kind of mental release? I don't know. **

**That said, I guess I should mention there's some foul language ahead. If you've seen the movie you probably already knew that, but I figured I'd let you know anyway. **

Chapter Twelve

Rising Waters

Hinrik ran through the door that led into the grand staircase only to see that the stairs were crowded with people. He groaned in frustration but tried valiantly to fight his way through the crowd. By the time he reached A Deck, he knew he was going to have to find a faster way down. He turned and hurried toward the elevators, shoving his way through a group of people gathered in front of them. "Excuse me…excuse me…" he tried to call above their chattering, and then in frustration he added, "That means get the hell out of the way!"

He finally pushed his way to the front of the queue, ignoring the annoyed mutterings of the other people, and said to the operator standing in front of the elevators, "Take me down to E Deck."

"I'm sorry, sir, but the lifts are closed," the operator replied coolly. It was obvious he'd been saying this a lot over the past several minutes and his patience was wearing thin.

"You don't understand," Hinrik said quickly. "It's a matter of life and death, I have to get down there!"

"I'm sorry sir, you'll have to take the stairs," the operator replied.

"That'll take too long," Hinrik said exasperatedly. "Now come on, take me down!"

"Sir, the lifts are—"

But Hinrik had had enough. He seized the front of the operator's shirt and pushed him back into the elevator. "I'm through being polite, goddamn it! Now _take me down!_"

His eyes bugging out of his skull, the operator hastened to obey, clearly under the impression he was dealing with a madman. "E Deck," Hinrik huffed as he pulled the grate closed behind him. The elevator began its descent into the bowels of the ship. One by one, A Deck, B Deck, C Deck, and D Deck slid slowly past. "Come on," Hinrik growled impatiently, thinking perhaps it would have been better to take the stairs after all. It might have been faster than this rickety thing.

When the elevator reached E Deck, it became immediately apparent that something was wrong. Hinrik's first clue was a faint blue shimmering glow that suddenly appeared on the lift ceiling. But before he could put the pieces together, water rushed into the elevator. Hinrik yelped and the operator jumped into a chair standing in the corner with a bellowed curse. "I'm going back up!" he cried.

"No!" Hinrik shouted, moving forward and shoving the gate open. He staggered into the corridor and looked around. Which way should he go?

"Sir! I'm going back up!" the operator yelled. "I'm going back up!" When Hinrik made no move to rejoin him, he pulled the lever and the elevator began its trip back up to drier decks.

Hinrik spared the rising elevator half a glance before returning his attention to the task at hand: finding Astrid. But suddenly he realized that he had no idea where to go.

His eyes fell on the entrance to a hallway with a sign above the opening that read "Crew Only." He considered for a moment before deciding that the crew had to have access to steerage, so this was just as good a path as any. So he waded into the crew passage, hoping against hope he'd be able to find Astrid and get her off this ship before it went down.

He turned left and found himself facing a long white corridor lined with plain doors on either side. He waded as fast as he could down the hall, passing intersections and stairways, calling Astrid's name as he went. The water swirling around his thighs was freezing. Astrid had been too kind with her words when she'd described being in water like this. He wasn't just being stabbed by a thousand knives. He rather felt as though someone was hacking away at his legs with an invisible hatchet. He couldn't imagine being submerged in it for any period of time and desperately hoped Astrid was clear of it.

"Astrid!" he yelled as he passed another intersection. "Astrid, can you hear me?! Astrid!"

A faint echo reached his ears, and he stopped. "Astrid?!"

"Hinrik!" came the faint reply. "Hinrik I'm down here! I'm down here! Hurry!"

"Astrid!" he cried, turning left and hurrying down the corridor. "Keep calling, Astrid! I'm following your voice!"

Astrid did as told, calling Hinrik's name over and over until he rounded another corner and saw her. He moaned in mingled relief and fear. She, Riley, and Terry were trapped behind a locked gate, a floor-to-ceiling lattice that completely blocked the path. It was supposed to stop steerage passengers from mingling with the other classes, a preventative measure against the spread of infectious diseases. But no one had thought to unlock this one, making the safety precaution a death trap. "Astrid!" Hinrik said, splashing forward. "How…?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I came down here, found Riley and Terry, but I couldn't remember how I got down, I got all turned around. Every path we take ends up being blocked by one of these damn things." She shook the gate furiously.

Hinrik took hold of the lattices in his hands and pulled with all his strength. The gate rattled and shook but didn't give. He pushed into it, hoping to knock it free, but nothing happened. "Right," he gasped, thinking hard. "I…I'm going to find help," he finally said. "There has to be a steward around here that has a key. I'll find him and bring him back here." He reached through one of the slats and took hold of Astrid's hand. "I'll be right back, I promise."

Astrid nodded and kissed his hand before releasing him. Hinrik turned around and hurried back the way he'd come.

"We'll just wait here!" Terry called after him, and Riley elbowed him in the stomach.

Hinrik remembered passing a stairwell not too far back and decided to check the deck above, as clearly this deck was deserted. He dragged himself free of the water and called out, "Hello, is there anyone here?!" No one answered him. The hallway was empty. His heart sinking, Hinrik took off at a run down the corridor. "Hello, can anyone hear me?! I need help! Hello?!"

No answer.

"Damn it," Hinrik hissed, turning around on the spot, running a hand through his hair in fear and frustration. Then he bellowed, "Can anybody hear me?! Is there anyone up here?! Hello?!"

He heard footsteps and his heart gave a bound. "Hello?!" he called again, heading toward the sound. A moment later a steward with a handful of lifebelts came hurtling around a corner, looking terrified. "Sir! You shouldn't be here! Come on, you need to get topside!"

"Yes I know," Hinrik said hurriedly, "but first I have to…hey! What are you doing?!"

The steward had grabbed him by the arm and was dragging him forcefully up the corridor. "Come along now, sir, there's a good lad."

"Wait!" Hinrik cried, digging his feet into the floor and trying in vain to free himself. "Wait, I need your help! There's a girl trapped down there and…"

"No need to make a fuss, it's all right," babbled the steward, his eyes wide and frightened beyond belief. "We'll get you out of here safely, don't you worry…"

"…I need you to free her but you're going the wrong way, please sir, you have to stop…"

"…there's no need to panic…"

"…I'm not panicking, you're the one panicking, will you please just stop and LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE SECOND?!"

The steward looked around as Hinrik wound back his fist and punched him with all the force he could muster. The steward finally let go with a grunt, his hand flying up to his bleeding nose. Hinrik fell back against the wall, clutching his hand. God, how did Astrid do that?! That hurt!

The steward glared at Hinrik and snarled, "To hell with you." And without looking back he hurried off.

Hinrik moaned and slumped against the wall, breathing hard. Now what?

The lights suddenly dimmed dramatically, plunging him into semi-darkness. Hinrik's breathing hitched in terror, his eyes going wide in a desperate attempt to see as a deep metallic groan echoed up from somewhere within the ship. Oh God this was it. The _Titanic_ was going down with him in it. He'd failed. He hadn't been able to save Astrid in time. He hoped his father had been able to get into a boat. Maybe he'd forgive his son for being so painfully stupid for letting Astrid go back down below in the first place…

The lights flashed back to life, and he heaved a sigh of relief, only then realizing that he'd been hyperventilating. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was okay. The ship was still afloat…for now. But it wouldn't stay that way forever. He had to find a way to get Astrid free, and quickly.

He opened his eyes and blinked. Directly across from him was a glass case holding a red fire axe. He stared at it for a moment, and then he lunged forward, using his elbow to break the glass covering. He reached in and seized the axe handle, yanking it free. Then he turned around and ran back toward the stairwell.

He skidded to a halt, his heart freezing in mid-beat. The water had risen in his absence. It was now very close to the ceiling of the deck below. "Oh my God…" he breathed, stepping slowly down. Crouching down, he peered into the corridor toward where Astrid and her friends were trapped. The water became shallower in that direction, but it wouldn't stay that way much longer.

He straightened and stripped out of his lifejacket. It would only get in the way. Then he clutched the axe and stepped down to the lower deck, gasping and grimacing as the water rose to his chest. He held the axe above his head in both hands and waded as fast as he could. He rounded the bend and saw the locked gate up ahead. Astrid, Riley, and Terry were all visibly relieved to see him, though their gazes turned questioning when they saw the axe.

"I couldn't find anybody," Hinrik explained as he neared them. "But I did find this."

"Do you think that will work?" Riley asked, looking as if she had her doubts.

"One way to find out," Hinrik replied, positioning his hands rather clumsily on the axe handle.

"Have you ever used an axe before?" Astrid asked nervously.

"Never," Hinrik answered. "So you might want to stand back."

"Position your hands a little further apart," Astrid advised. "And aim for this spot here." She pointed at the junction where the two halves of the gate met and locked together.

"Right." Hinrik nodded, then he raised the axe above his head and swung. The blade screeched across the metal, a good six inches away from where he'd been aiming. The gate held firm. Grunting, he tried again, this time hitting one of the lattices to the right of the lock.

"Hinrik, wait," Astrid sighed. "Pass the axe through the gate to me. I have experience with them."

Hinrik might have been embarrassed under other circumstances, but now he nodded and did as instructed, saying, "Yeah, that's probably best."

Astrid took the axe and a look of intense concentration clouded her face. She reared back and swung. The blade tore into the lock with precision accuracy, but though it damaged the metal, it wasn't a complete break. "Thank God these gates aren't made of stronger stuff," Hinrik remarked.

Astrid didn't answer and hit the gate again with the axe. This time the metal broke, and with a cry of triumph Astrid pulled the gate open, wading through and giving Hinrik a grateful kiss. "All right! Go Astrid!" Terry cheered.

Astrid didn't even acknowledge him. "Thank you," she said to Hinrik, hugging him. "I was beginning to lose hope."

Hinrik returned the embrace and whispered, "I would never leave you."

Astrid hummed contentedly.

"Um, this is touching and all," Riley remarked, "but could we perhaps catch up later? I'm freezing my ass off!"

Hinrik and Astrid pulled apart. "Right," Hinrik said, "come on, this way." He led them back around the corner and up the hallway, but he stopped at the stairwell leading up to the next deck. He pointed down the corridor, which was now mostly flooded, and said, "That's the way I came, from the elevators."

Astrid shook her head. "It's too deep. We're gonna have to find another way out." She looked over at the stairs and added, "Come on, this way."

Hinrik nodded and followed her up the stairs, Riley and Terry right behind them. "Isn't this great?" Terry asked, his love for destruction shining in his eyes. "All this damage the water's causing?"

"Yeah," Riley said, though she didn't sound so enthused. "I'd like it a lot better if we weren't in danger of drowning or freezing to death."

"Oh…right." Terry said, blinking as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Got a point." Then he grinned and added, "Still cool, though."

Riley rolled her eyes and didn't respond.

**A/N: I hope Terry's comment doesn't seem inappropriate. I'm trying to keep him in character and Tuffnut loves destruction, but putting it in the **_**Titanic **_**context…I don't know. Too much? **

**I hope you're enjoying the story! **


	14. Chapter 13: Going Topside

Chapter Thirteen

Going Topside

Grant Owens loved his daughter dearly. She was the only living creature whose life he placed above his own, especially since his wife died. It was why he doted on her, catered to her every whim, gave her everything her heart desired.

But he wasn't sure she was using her best judgment when she asked him to get Hinrik into a lifeboat.

She'd told him what he'd said when they'd retreated into the bedroom, how he'd called off the engagement and told her that he'd never loved her. It had broken his heart to hear his daughter so upset, her voice trembling, on the verge of tears. He knew deep down that his daughter could be a little tiresome (though he'd never admit it to anyone, not even himself if truth be told), but he knew that she liked Hinrik. Why, he wasn't quite sure. He'd never seen anything in Stanford's boy except a rebellious nature that made him question and undermine everything he'd ever stood for. He'd kept quiet and let his daughter pursue him, and he'd given the boy his blessing when he'd come to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage. But he couldn't say that he'd ever really liked Hinrik.

And now Heather wanted to make sure the man got off the ship safely. And that the steerage girl he'd become infatuated with did not.

Well, he wasn't quite sure how he'd do it, but Grant Owens was not about to deprive his daughter of anything. Not even with the ship sinking underneath him.

He was in her stateroom at the moment, fulfilling the other half of her request and filling the pockets of his topcoat with her favorite pieces of jewelry. Satisfied, he hurried over to his own room, his valet Milton following behind him. He crammed stacks of dollar bills into his pockets as well. Perhaps these would come in handy when trying to get Hinrik in a lifeboat. In any case, it never hurt to have money on one's person.

"I make my own luck," he remarked to Milton.

"So do I," the old man replied, pulling back his jacket to reveal a pistol tucked into his belt.

Grant raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. He supposed everyone had their own way of getting what they wanted. He could only hope that his was effective.

…

Scotland Road, the widest passageway on the entire ship, was a corridor that ran the length of the ship on E Deck, used by crew and steerage alike. At the moment it was swarming with confused passengers being herded aft by several harried-looking stewards. It was a problematic business: there was no standard or procedure for dealing with the third class passengers aboard the _Titanic_, and the language barrier was only complicating matters. The stewards all spoke English and very few understood the incessant babbling coming from the mouths of countless immigrants from all over Europe.

So it really wasn't surprising that one of the stewards lost his temper when a crowd of four people came bursting through a closed door, splintering the wooden doorframe with a loud crash that made several people turn and look.

"I gotta hand it to you," Hinrik said, looking over at Astrid in mingled alarm and admiration, "you sure know how to use that axe."

Said axe was immediately ripped from Astrid's grip by the angry steward, who bellowed, "Here you! You'll have to pay for that, you know! That's White Star Line property—"

But Hinrik, Astrid, Riley, and Terry had been dealing with their own set of problems. From the stairwell that led up to D Deck they'd run down as far as they could go before running into a crowd of people so thick they could barely take a step in any direction. The only course open to them was another set of stairs, which led to this mercifully dry section of E Deck. None of them had any idea how to get back up to the lifeboats, so they really couldn't be blamed for snapping back at the man who was blathering on about paying for damages to a sinking ship.

"_Shut up!_" they all yelled in unison, and the steward staggered back, eyes wide. Even armed with Astrid's confiscated axe, he apparently felt that dealing with all four of these wet and bedraggled passengers was pushing his luck, for he let them go without another word.

Hinrik led the others aft, struggling in some areas to slip past passengers carrying their luggage with them. These trunks and bags contained all their worldly possessions and they were unwilling to part with them. The din was incredible: a hundred yelling voices all shouting in their native tongues, shouting questions, screaming hysterically, all of it echoing off the white walls and reverberating up the entire passage.

And then, from just up ahead, they heard a familiar voice with a strong Scandinavian accent bellow, "For God's sake man, there are women and children down here! Let us out so we can have a chance!"

"Sven?" Astrid called. "Finn? Where are you?"

They had reached another stairwell, also blocked by a set of those lattice gates. Sven, who had been at the front of the crowd screaming at the steward guarding the gate from the other side, now pushed his way back down toward them, Finn trailing behind them. "Astrid!" he yelled. "Riley! There you are! We've been looking all over!"

"Got held up," Hinrik explained, and Sven's eyes shot over to him, widening slightly. He was clearly wondering what a first class passenger was doing down in steerage at a time like this, but he didn't ask and no one bothered to fill him in. There were more important matters to worry about.

"Can we get out that way?" Terry asked, pointing to the stairwell Sven and Finn had just come from.

"No," Finn replied. "It's hopeless. They keep saying we have to wait for first and second class to go and then they'll let us up."

Hinrik's heart missed a beat. "By that time all the boats will have gone." They all turned to look at him, shocked, and he explained, "There aren't enough for everyone aboard. We have to get up there now." He looked around, considering, and then added, "Let's keep going that way. Maybe we'll find another path up."

No one argued, so Hinrik led the way, heading further aft, shoving through swarms of people and baggage. He held Astrid's hand in a vice grip, frightened at the mere thought of losing her in this crowd. They passed a woman sobbing hysterically on the floor, a dark-skinned couple arguing while the husband rifled through a dictionary, trying to translate a sign posted on the wall, a young mother changing her baby's diaper on top of a steamer trunk.

Hinrik's heart leapt: there was another stairwell ahead, a narrower one, and there was no gate blocking it off. "Here!" he called to the others. "This way!"

Their relief was short-lived. They made it up two decks before they found their way blocked once more. Hinrik swore under his breath as he made his way to the front of the crowd gathered in front of the gate. Addressing the steward on the other side he ordered, "Open this gate."

The steward, looking as though he'd said this a thousand times that night and was getting tired of repeating himself, replied, "Go back down to the main stairwell, it'll all get sorted out there."

Hinrik got as close to the gate as he could and snarled, "Open this gate right now!"

The steward didn't relent. "Go back to the main stairwell like I told you."

Hinrik fell back, deflating. Now what could he do? He couldn't go back down there. They'd never get up in time. And he didn't know what other obstacles lay in other areas of the ship. This was their surest way to getting up to the Boat Deck, but there was simply no reasoning with the steward.

Astrid, however, was beyond reasoning. "Goddamn it all to hell, you son of a bitch!" she screamed, banging her fists against the gate with enough strength to make it shake and rattle violently.

Hinrik stared at her, suddenly afraid. She was downright terrifying when she was angry. But his attention was quickly diverted by the sound of breaking wood. Looking behind him, he saw Riley, Terry, Sven, and Finn heaving on a bench that had once been attached to the floor on the landing. But now they were holding it up, one person at each corner, and Hinrik saw at once what they were doing. They were going to use the bench as a battering ram. "Astrid, move aside!" he said, pulling her out of the way. "Everyone get back, move aside, quickly!"

"On three!" Sven yelled. "One!"

"Put that down!" the steward shrieked, suddenly panicking. "Put that down right now!"

"Two!" Riley and Terry said together.

The steward, seeing that there was no stopping them, decided it was best to get out of the way and retreated down the corridor.

"Three!" Finn shouted, and they charged forward. The bench rammed into the gate, which bent and bulged under the attack but still held.

"Again!" Sven bellowed, and they backed up and ran at it once more. This time the gate broke free and collapsed with a crash. A swarm of steerage passengers immediately surged up the stairs toward freedom. Dropping the bench, Sven, Finn, and the twins rejoined Hinrik and Astrid.

"Nice one!" Astrid congratulated them.

"Well we couldn't let you have all the fun," Riley retorted, and Terry laughed.

…

Up on the Boat Deck, the mood was no longer light. By now the people were starting to understand that something was seriously wrong. The band had assembled near the entrance to the grand staircase and was playing upbeat, cheery ragtime tunes, but they couldn't disguise the fact that the ship was now listing noticeably toward the bow with a slight tilt to port. The prow and forward well deck were totally submerged, with the sea now lapping at the base of the B Deck promenade. The rockets continuing to go off at regular intervals only served to remind them that their situation was turning dire. It was no longer a problem to fill the lifeboats. Instead, the problem was keeping back crowds of passengers who were swarming the boats, hoping to find a seat, teetering on the brink of total panic. Officers were yelling for people to stay calm, passengers were crying and screaming, and somewhere gunshots rang out as a desperate officer tried to keep order. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control.

This was what awaited Hinrik and the others when they finally emerged onto the Boat Deck. The cold night air made them all gasp but they had no time to adjust. They had a much bigger problem.

"The boats are gone!" Hinrik cried, and indeed all the boats this far aft had already been launched. He looked around desperately and his eyes fell on a familiar figure. "Gunnar!" he called, running toward his friend. Gunnar was escorting two very frightened-looking women by the arms. In stark contrast to the commotion surrounding him, he looked quite calm and composed.

"Hinrik?" he said, eyes swiftly roving over the group. "Why are you wet?"

Hinrik didn't answer the question. "Are there any boats left, Gunnar?"

"Yes, there are still a couple all the way forward," he replied. "Come along, I'll lead you—"

Hinrik didn't wait. He seized Astrid's hand and took off toward the bow with the others right behind him, leaving Gunnar and the ladies behind. They sprinted past the band as they continued playing. "Music to drown by," Sven remarked. "Now I know I'm in first class!"

They came to a stop at the edge of a crowd huddled around one of the last boats and pushed their way toward the front. "Women and children only!" the officer was yelling. "Only women and children at this time please!"

"Darling, please get into the boat," a man pleaded with his wife, and Astrid's eyes widened. It was Mr. Masterson, her dinner companion of the previous night. He was trying to convince his wife to get into the lifeboat, but she was tearfully refusing.

"No!" she cried. "No, I won't get it! I'm not going without you! I won't leave you!"

Mr. Masterson looked torn, and Astrid understood why. He was touched by her loyalty, but he loved her enough to want to ensure her safety. He pulled his wife into a tight embrace, tears welling in his eyes.

Astrid looked up at Hinrik, feeling the bottom of her stomach dissolve. She knew they were about to be separated. Could she allow it?

On their other side, Riley wasn't given an option. "Here!" Sven called, waving his hand in an attempt to catch the officer's attention. "There's a woman here! Let her on!"

The officer waved them forward, and Sven, Finn, and Terry all ushered the bewildered girl toward the boat. "No!" she yelped as she was shoved rather forcefully into a seat. "Terry!"

"I'll be all right, sis," Terry said with a grin. "I'm indestructible, remember? I'll be okay." He clasped her hand for a moment and added, "See you in New York."

Riley smiled sadly and squeezed his fingers. "I'd better," she replied. "Or else I'm gonna kick your butt!"

Terry chuckled and released her hand, drawing back into the crowd. Sven and Finn hurried forward to take his place. Each of them grabbed one of her hands and planted a kiss on her knuckles. "See you later, babe," Sven remarked.

"Bye, Riley," Finn whispered. "It's been a real pleasure."

Riley didn't know what to say, so she smiled at them both as they too backed away. "We're gonna check the other side," Finn told Hinrik and Astrid. "Maybe they're letting men off in some of the other boats."

Hinrik nodded and said, "Good luck."

"Don't need luck," Sven retorted with a grin. "I'm a Jorgenson." He clasped Hinrik's hand for the briefest moment, a sign of solidarity and acceptance, before he, Finn, and Terry all disappeared into the crowd.

Astrid, however, didn't move. She turned to look up at Hinrik and said calmly, "I'm not going."

Hinrik blinked. "You have to go."

"No, Hinrik," Astrid replied, shaking her head. "I'm not going. Not without you."

"Astrid, please," Hinrik took her by the arms and stared into her eyes. They were steely and determined, but he didn't falter. "Get in the boat. Please, Astrid."

"No," she said simply.

Hinrik just gazed at her for a moment. Then he smiled weakly. "There's no arguing with you, is there?"

Astrid's lips quirked. "You know me so well."

Hinrik chuckled and pulled her into a warm embrace. Astrid hugged him back, wrapping her arms around him and holding his body as close to her own as she could, hoping he couldn't feel her trembling.

"There you are!"

They broke apart in surprise as Grant Owens hurried up to them. "Hinrik, dear boy, you look a fright!" he exclaimed, eyeing Hinrik from head to foot. He pulled off his topcoat and put it over the younger man's shoulders. "Here, put that on. You must be freezing in those wet clothes."

He was, but Hinrik was too stunned to say anything. He slid his arms through the sleeves before turning back to Astrid. "Come on. Let's…I don't know. Let's go to the stern, I guess, and wait it out there. Maybe we can swim for it when she goes down."

Astrid nodded, but before they could move, Grant grabbed Hinrik by the arm. He looked back at him in surprise. "Wait a moment, lad," Grant huffed. "I must get you into this boat!"

Hinrik frowned. "I can't go," he said simply. "It's women and children first."

"Don't worry about that," Grant replied airily. "I'll arrange it with the officer, you'll have nothing to—"

"No," Hinrik said, tearing his arm out of Grant's grip. "I won't stoop that low."

And with that he turned away. Grant looked from Hinrik to the boat, which was just starting to lower. His heart missed a beat. He couldn't fail at this! He'd promised Heather to get Hinrik into a boat! She was counting on him! He couldn't let his daughter down!

The boat was sliding down toward the water.

Grant lashed out and seized Hinrik by the elbow. Startled, Hinrik didn't think to fight back as he was forcibly dragged toward the edge of the deck, pulled out of Astrid's grip. "Mr. Owens, what—?!"

Grant shoved Hinrik with all his might, and the next second Hinrik's feet left the deck. He was falling backward into nothingness. He heard Astrid scream his name but couldn't respond. He yelled as he toppled, and then suddenly his back collided with something hard. Pain shot up his spine and through his skull, and he groaned. He'd landed in the lifeboat.

"Hinrik!" Astrid cried, leaning over the edge and staring down at him. "Hinrik! Are you all right?"

Hinrik blinked several times and looked up at her. For a second he couldn't figure out what had happened. One moment he'd been on the deck with Astrid, and now he was…

Then it clicked. "Astrid!" he shouted, standing up and stretching his arm out, but by now the boat was too low for him to reach her. "No! Astrid!"

"It's okay, Hinrik!" Astrid called, and she was smiling sadly. "I'll be fine. I'll find a seat in another boat." She blew him a kiss. "I'll see you soon, Hinrik."

Hinrik shook his head frantically. Words failed him. Several of the women in the boat gently pulled him back down onto the bench. "There, there, dear boy," one of them soothed. "You'll be fine now. Don't you worry."

Riley, who had watched all this with wide, bewildered eyes, now touched him on the shoulder. "It'll be fine, Hinrik," she soothed. "Astrid's strong. She's a survivor. She'll get through this, I know it."

Hinrik just continued to shake his head as he dropped lower and lower. Astrid's face was getting smaller and smaller, and he knew that this was the last time he'd ever see her alive. Her chances of getting in a boat were slim. There were so few of them left and so many passengers still on board. She'd never get on a boat before the ship sank. And once she was thrown into the freezing water…

Another rocket went off, shooting up into the sky and bursting into a myriad of stars, bathing Astrid and the _Titanic _in golden light. He felt his heart constrict and tears started to well in his eyes.

The lifeboat was now level with the A Deck promenade.

Without thinking about it, without pausing to consider his actions, Hinrik stood up and lunged for the side of the boat. Ignoring the startled cries of the other people around him, he jumped back onto the sinking _Titanic_.


	15. Chapter 14: You Jump, I Jump

**A/N: To Guest reviewer abtree.940: I'm afraid I've never read **_**The Jungle Book **_**and the only film adaptation I've seen is Disney's, and even that was a long time ago and I don't remember much about it. I don't think I'd be able to do a HTTYD-Jungle Book crossover, sorry. But I appreciate your input all the same. **

**And thank you all once again for the reviews! I'm glad this story has gotten such an emotional response from so many people. **

Chapter Fourteen

"You Jump, I Jump"

"Hinrik!" Astrid screamed as she watched the foolish man take a wild leap from the lifeboat. His fingers caught hold of one of the windows on the promenade, and some helpful passengers pulled him back onto the ship. "Hinrik, what are you doing?! No!"

She whirled around and shoved her way through the crowd, running as fast as she could toward the entrance to the grand staircase. She threw the door open and hurtled into the light and warmth of the foyer, ignoring the people standing nervously about as she hurried down the stairs. She passed by the clock and saw Hinrik running toward her from the promenade, his hair disheveled, Grant's coat flapping around his legs. He looked like he was on the brink of panic. She could see tears welling in his eyes.

Every rebuke forming in her mind went silent when they met. Hinrik grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace, the embrace of a person clinging to the dearest living creature in his entire life. "Astrid!" he gasped into her hair. "Oh Astrid!"

"You are so stupid!" Astrid scolded, and she suddenly realized that she was crying too and couldn't stop it. "You are so—" Her words were cut off by Hinrik's lips pressing against hers. She savored the kiss for a moment before pulling back and continuing, "Why would you do that?! You were safe! Why would you do that?! _Why?!_"

"Because I'm stupid," Hinrik replied with a weak smile.

Astrid shook her head, but she couldn't stop her own grin from spreading across her face. "No, stupid was trying to jump _off_ the ship when it _wasn't_ sinking."

"Then I'm crazy," Hinrik corrected with a slightly hysterical laugh. "I just…I couldn't go without you, Astrid. You jump, I jump, right?"

Astrid gazed up at him and breathed, "Right." And then she fell into Hinrik's arms again and just let him hold her.

Neither of them noticed Grant, who had followed Astrid back into the ship and was watching their reunion from the banister above them. He grit his teeth and fumed furiously. That stupid boy! He'd been safe in the lifeboat! He'd fulfilled his daughter's wishes by getting Hinrik safely on one of the boats and now he'd gone and ruined it all…

His eyes suddenly widened as he realized something. The jewels. Heather's jewelry. He'd put it in his coat pocket. And he'd put the coat on Hinrik…

He looked up and saw Milton coming toward him, looking confused, and something in him snapped. He lunged for his valet, whipping the old man's gun from its holster and sprinting back to the staircase, taking wild aim, squeezing the trigger…

If Hinrik hadn't looked up at that exact second, he'd have gone to the bottom of the Atlantic with a bullet in his head. As it was, he yelled, "Look out!" and pulled Astrid down just as the gun fired. The bullet missed them, hitting a wooden column nearby. Several people cried out in alarm. Grant swore and started to hurtle down the stairs toward them. "Run!" Hinrik shouted, and he and Astrid darted around the corner, descending down to B Deck with Grant right on their heels. He continued to fire at them, but thankfully his fear and rage made him a poor marksman and he kept missing.

Hinrik continued to lead Astrid down the grand staircase, keeping their heads ducked to avoid the madman's bullets, until the steps ended at the reception area on D Deck, which opened into the first class dining saloon. It wasn't until they heard the splashing and felt an unpleasant cold wetness on their legs that they realized the gigantic room was flooding. Green seawater rose up to their waists, greatly impeding their forward motion, but they had nowhere else to run. They waded as fast as possible toward the stern, Hinrik pulling Astrid in front of him to protect her from harm.

Grant careened around the corner of the stairs and fired again. The bullet hit the water to their left, sending up a spray. Hinrik cried out in fear and yelled, "Go, go!" Grant fired again and the bullet hit a piece of wood paneling on the wall. He pulled the trigger again, but the gun was empty. He roared in frustration…and then froze. Water was swirling at his feet. He looked down in bemused wonder at the sea lapping at the base of the staircase and heard the ship around him creak and groan in torment as she sank steadily lower. His heart missed a beat.

Looking up, he saw Hinrik and Astrid running aft, dodging tables and chairs. They were far enough back that they were mostly out of the water by now. He had no hope of catching them, and even if he did he certainly didn't want to follow, not with the water rising as quickly as it was.

He heard footsteps and glanced back to see Milton coming down the stairs behind him. "Milton," he ordered, "follow them. Get the coat away from Hinrik and bring it to me. I don't care how you do it, but get the coat. You understand?" He was just going to have to explain to Heather that he couldn't save Hinrik, but at least he'd rescued her jewelry. Surely she'd understand, right?

Milton gaped at his employer for a moment, but orders were orders. "Yes sir," he grumbled, accepting his gun back and reloading it as Grant hurried back up the stairs without a backward glance. Once he was out of sight, Milton added, "Bastard."

At the other end of the dining saloon, Hinrik and Astrid had come to a door, which to their dismay they found locked. "Come on, come on!" Hinrik growled, throwing his weight against it, but it wouldn't budge. He looked back toward the staircase. Grant must be on his way, and he'd be upon them any moment. "Hide," he said, leading Astrid away from the door and back into the saloon.

Milton grimaced at the temperature of the water rising around his stomach as he waded slowly into the opulent room. It took several minutes, but he finally made it to dry floor again and hurried over to the door. Upon finding it locked, he turned and scanned the saloon with his eyes. They had to be here somewhere. There was no way out for them. He strained his aged ears, listening for any sound to indicate where his quarry might be hiding.

A light flashed and sparked and went out, and he jumped, whirling around. The water continued to slowly rise, creeping up on where he stood. The ship groaned again, a low, torturous sound, as if the _Titanic _herself were crying out in despair. The only other sound was that of clinking china as the water lifted dishes and cups off the tables.

Hidden behind one of these tables, Hinrik and Astrid peered cautiously around the hanging folds of the tablecloth. Milton was close to them, uncomfortably close. Hinrik looked around frantically and came up with an idea. Maybe he could distract Milton, move to another area of the room and redirect his attention long enough for Astrid to escape. It wasn't much of a plan, but under the circumstances he couldn't come up with anything better.

"Stay here," he mouthed to Astrid, who nodded silently. He peeked around the table again and, once Milton was looking the other way, scurried as quietly as he could from his hiding place, ducking behind the next table over. He waited for a moment before repeating the motion, and soon he was out of Astrid's sight.

She turned her head and just managed to stop herself from gasping. The water was now lapping at her feet. In a few minutes she would be submerged. Whatever Hinrik was planning, he'd better do it soon.

Milton heard a faint noise and looked around in time to see a nearby cart, laden with empty dishes, roll across the heavily-slanted floor toward the bow. It struck a table and the plates toppled, hitting the floor and shattering with a tremendous tinkling crash. This time Astrid couldn't hold back her sharp inhalation of surprise, and Milton heard it.

Grinning, the old valet stepped up to where Astrid crouched behind the table, the water now rising up her hunched back. She looked up at him, her eyes wide as the barrel of the gun leveled at her. "Well, well, well," Milton wheezed. "What have we here?"

Astrid couldn't think of anything to say. She could only stare, open-mouthed, as Milton's finger tightened on the trigger…

And then Hinrik collided with the old man, who yelled a curse as he toppled. The gun went off, the bullet hitting a nearby chair, and the next moment Hinrik had kicked it from Milton's grasp. He seized the valet by the shirtfront and dragged him to his feet, winding his fist back for a punch. But Milton struck first, pounding his knuckles into Hinrik's stomach, making him double over in pain, gasping. Milton took advantage of his opponent's momentary immobility to search for his gun, finding it lying a few feet away. He closed his hand around it and rose, but Hinrik was on him in a flash, wrapping his arm around Milton's neck in a choke hold. Milton spluttered and grunted, trying in vain to twist his way free, but Hinrik only tightened his grip.

Milton elbowed Hinrik, and the younger man grunted, loosening his hold just enough for the valet to shake him off. He whirled around and raised the gun, leveling it at Hinrik's face. His mouth contorted in a sneer as Hinrik went pale. He started to pull the trigger…

But Astrid had emerged from her hiding place at last, and her fist connected with Milton's nose before he could even blink. Dazed, Milton swayed on the spot, but Astrid didn't give him a chance to recover before landing another blow, this one to the old man's abdomen. Milton doubled over in pain, and next second Astrid had delivered her final attack: an elbow to the valet's spine. Milton toppled like a felled tree, groaning and wheezing in pain, and Astrid kicked the gun away from him before he could recover.

"Wow," Hinrik panted. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Astrid laughed rather breathlessly, but any reply she might have made was immediately forgotten when Milton moaned, trying to rise to his feet.

"Come on," Hinrik urged, grabbing her hand and leading her back to the locked door. He paused several paces back, glancing at Milton, who was on his knees, looking for his gun. He turned back to the door, took a deep breath, and sprinted toward it, twisting at the last minute so that his shoulder collided with wood at full speed. The door splintered and swung open at last. "Ow!" Hinrik gasped, clutching his shoulder. "God, that hurt! Ow!"

Astrid hurried after him and took his hand. "We'd better go," she said. Milton had found the gun and was on his feet again.

Hinrik nodded and led her through the galley, pausing as they reached a stairwell. Astrid made to hurry up the steps to the deck above, but Hinrik held her back. She looked at him quizzically, but he didn't say anything. He glanced back toward the saloon, thinking, and then he motioned for them to go down instead of up. Astrid understood at once. Of course Milton would assume they'd gone up. Why on earth would they want to retreat deeper into the sinking ship? She nodded and followed him down to E Deck, where they paused on the landing, out of sight, listening.

Sure enough, when Milton reached the stairs, he headed up without hesitation. Hinrik and Astrid listened to his receding footsteps and breathed a sigh of relief. The ship creaked loudly, a sound that filled their ears, reminding them that time was running out.

Then they heard a new sound: cries for help.

They turned in unison toward the noise. It was coming from somewhere nearby. "Hello?" Hinrik called. "Is anyone there?"

"Help! Help us!" called a man's voice, echoed by a woman's. "We're down here! Please help us! Get us out of here!"

Hinrik exchanged a glance with Astrid, who nodded. They couldn't leave those people behind. Taking her hand, Hinrik led her down the passage and soon found the problem: there was a steerage family trapped behind a locked gate, and the sea was rapidly rising around their ankles. Astrid's heart missed a beat: she recognized the child as Corey, the boy she'd danced with only last night. Now he was sobbing with terror as the water swirled around him and his parents, getting higher by the second. In a few minutes they would be drowned.

Hinrik lunged forward and grabbed the lattices, trying in vain to yank them free. He grunted and gasped. "They won't budge!" He looked around. "Help! Is there somebody there?! Help us! Please, help us!"

He heard a faint splashing sound and his heart leapt. "Hello?!" he yelled. "Hello, can you help us?! Please! Please come help us!"

A steward appeared from around the corner, looking terrified. His wide eyes landed on Hinrik, Astrid, and the trapped family but didn't seem to fully register their presence. "Help us!" Astrid cried, seizing his arm as he passed. "We have to free these people! Hurry! Do you have the key?"

He grabbed a ring of keys from his pocket and tossed them to her. They fell into the water and vanished from view. "Free them yourself!" he gasped, and without another word he continued up the hall and was out of sight in moments.

"Coward!" Astrid shrieked after him, but Hinrik ignored her, bending down and feeling along the floor with his hands. He found the key ring a moment later and stood back up.

"I've got them!" he cried. "Which one is it, Astrid?"

"I don't know!" she replied, looking frantic. The water was now at their waists. "Try that one!" She pointed to a sharp-looking key the same color as the gate.

Hinrik nodded and stuck the key into the lock, trying to twist it. He grunted as the mechanism resisted. _Must be the wrong key_, he thought, and he tried to pull it out, but it was jammed. "It's stuck!" he gasped. "I can't get it out!"

"Hurry, Hinrik!" Astrid whimpered. The sea was up to her chest. The woman had to hold Corey in her arms to keep his head above the water.

"I'm trying!" Hinrik snapped, tugging and pulling and twisting with all his strength. "It won't come free!"

The water was up to their chins. They had only seconds left. A light flashed and sizzled out. "Hurry!" the steerage man cried. "Please hurry!"

Hinrik took a deep breath and ducked underneath the surface, straining his eyes in the darkness. He could see the key in the lock, turned halfway to the side. Gritting his teeth, he twisted again, and this time he felt the mechanism unlatch. He shot back up and spluttered, "I've got it! It's open!"

The next second the water reached the ceiling and submerged them all.

But now the gate was open, and the steerage family swam toward an adjacent stairwell, emerging moments later and hurrying up the steps. Astrid came up a second or two after them and looked around. "Hinirk? Hinrik!"

He finally broke free and gasped for breath, swimming toward Astrid and the stairwell. She reached out for him and took his hand, guiding him along until his feet were on solid floor again. "Are you all right?" she asked as they hurried up, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the water churning below.

"Never better," Hinrik replied between lungful after lungful of air. "Now come on, let's get the hell out of here before something else comes along and tries to kill us."

Smiling faintly, Astrid nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

**A/N: I hate writing fight sequences. Could you tell? **

**Hope you're enjoying it! **


	16. Chapter 15: Panic

**A/N: Um…yeah, just read… **

Chapter Fifteen

Panic

The situation on the Boat Deck had gone from doubtful to completely out of control. Now it was undeniable: even the most stubborn and foolhardy among the passengers had to acknowledge that they'd been wrong. The _Titanic _was most definitely sinking. The water was rising toward the ship's bridge, threatening to wash everyone within fifty feet out into the sea. All the lifeboats had been launched except for two collapsibles, which the officers were struggling to fit into the davits. There were over 1500 people still on board the doomed ship, and emotions were running high.

After seeing Riley safely onto a lifeboat, Terry, Sven, and Finn started aft, trying to find a shortcut to the other side of the ship. Finn suggested the grand staircase. When Terry replied that it was a first class-only area, he retorted, "At a time like this, I don't think anyone will care."

Despite their hurry, however, they did all pause to gape at the sheer beauty of the structure. The oak shone in the light, even as seawater churned at the A Deck landing, rapidly climbing up toward them.

"Yes, pretty, isn't it?"

The three young men turned and saw a large fellow with a blond mustache smiling sadly at them. "Quite a marvel, this ship," he remarked, casting his eyes about the staircase foyer. "And what a waste. In just a few minutes it will all be gone." He laughed humorlessly. "Guess it makes you think twice about the durability of things, don't it?"

None of the three had any idea how to respond.

Gunnar heaved a sigh and added, "You'd best be going, lads. She'll be going under soon, I imagine. Don't want to be caught indoors when that happens. Your best chance is probably to get in one of the last boats, but if you can't, then I'd head as far aft as you can get and hope for the best."

Sven nodded. "All right."

"Won't you try to save yourself, sir?" Finn asked.

Gunnar chuckled. "Don't really see the point of that, lad. I can tell when I've been dealt a bad hand. I'd rather take it with good grace and get it over with." The ship creaked and he hastily added, "But you three are young and have your whole lives ahead of you. So get going."

Finn nodded and held his hand out. Gunnar blinked and then grinned, clasping it in his own and shaking firmly. "Good luck to you, lads," he murmured.

"And to you," Finn replied before the three hurried off, leaving Gunnar to sigh and watch the water rising up the stairs toward him.

Sven, Finn, and Terry emerged a moment later back onto the Boat Deck, now on the starboard side. The moment they stepped out, however, a swarm of people ran headlong into them, heading aft. Terry was knocked to the deck, throwing his hands over his head to protect himself. Sven flattened himself against the wall to stay out of their way. But Finn was soon carried off, protesting loudly but unable to fight against the crowd forcing him toward the stern.

"You go on!" he yelled to the other two. "I'll catch up later!"

And then he was gone.

"Finn! Finn!" Sven shouted, but there was no sign of his friend.

"Come on, Sven," Terry said, rising to his feet. "Finn's a strong guy. He'll be all right. But we have to hurry. We have to get in a boat, and fast!"

Sven hesitated, staring at the spot where the only friend he'd had had disappeared. Then he nodded resolutely and muttered, "Right," turning around and hurrying toward the collapsible being loaded into the davits.

There was a crowd of people in front of the boat, all trying to clamber in while the officer in charge shouted and forced them back. Sven and Terry joined them, craning their necks to see what was going on. The officer had a gun and was brandishing it, and it was this alone that kept the passengers from storming the boat.

Then the _Titanic _plunged down.

The sea rushed over the Boat Deck, lifting the boat on the crest of the wave and tossing the crowd into the drink. A chorus of screams went up as a hundred people found themselves suddenly swimming in freezing water. Sven gasped and spluttered as he swam instinctively away from the ship. He looked around and saw Terry, who must have gotten turned around. He was swimming toward the forward funnel, which was even now sinking slowly into the ocean.

"I need a knife!" a crewman bellowed, gesturing toward the ropes holding the boat in the davits. If they weren't severed, the collapsible would be dragged down with the ship. "Does anyone have a knife?!"

"I do!" Sven shouted, turning toward the boat and fishing his penknife from his pocket. "Here!" He opened it and set to work sawing the cords holding the boat in place as dozens of people started trying to pile into the relative safety of the little craft. The water around the boat became a frenzy of splashing and screaming.

The rope suddenly snapped, and Sven was submerged as the collapsible floated free, drifting away from the sinking ship. Resurfacing, he tried to swim toward it, but it was dangerously overloaded, and he knew he had no chance of finding a space. Cursing, he turned and saw the other collapsible floating upside down several hundred feet away, on the other side of the ship. He caught a flash of long blond hair and realized that Terry had reached it, climbing up onto the white hull. Sven started swimming toward it, yelling, "Terry! Terry, I'm coming!"

Terry somehow heard the calls above all the screaming and looked around. He grinned weakly and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word a sharp sound rang out, rather like gunfire. At the same instant, a long thick cable struck the water nearby like a whip. Looking up, Terry realized the cable had once been attached to the forward funnel. As he watched, another cable snapped, followed immediately by another and another. Then the funnel leaned, teetered, and started to fall…

…right toward Sven.

"Sven!" Terry screamed.

Sven looked behind him and his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. A neverending span of buff-colored metal was plummeting toward him, and there was nothing in the world he could do except scream and bring his hands up in pitiful self-defense before the funnel crashed into the sea, crushing him and a dozen other unfortunate swimmers. The only mercy was that their deaths were quick.

The resulting wave washed both collapsibles away from the ship. Terry gasped as water surged up his back, drenching him from head to foot, but he clung to the keel of the overturned boat desperately. "Sven…" he croaked. "Oh God, Sven…!"

But there was nothing to be done. Nothing except watch in horrified silence as the _Titanic _sank ever lower into the sea.

…

Hinrik and Astrid, soaking wet and shivering, finally emerged onto the A Deck promenade. They hurried over to the rail and peered over. The ship's bow was now totally submerged and sinking rapidly, while her stern rose steadily out of the water. Even as they watched the distance between the deck and the sea became greater.

"Right," Hinrik said as he observed their situation. "We keep moving aft. We have to stay on the ship as long as possible."

Astrid nodded and allowed him to lead her toward the stern, following the crowd of panicking passengers as they did the same. As the slant of the deck grew steeper, several people lost their footing and fell, sliding inexorably down the smooth wood toward the sea churning below. Hinrik pulled Astrid aside just in time as two men came hurtling down, fingers scrabbling at anything they could hold on to but grasping nothing. One of them just brushed the hem of Astrid's dress but lost their grip as they slipped past.

They reached the A Deck aft rail and clambered over, Hinrik holding Astrid's hand and helping her down to the deck below before following. They turned to the stairs leading down to the aft well deck, but by now the ship's list had become so steep that the stairs were all but impossible, as evident in the struggles facing the crowd surging down them. So Hinrik climbed over the railing and once again helped Astrid down. This time, however, he was jostled by the swarm of clambering, scrambling passengers and her hand slipped from his. She hit the deck on her side and cried out in pain. "Astrid!" Hinrik yelled, jumping down and landing beside her, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. She ignored the hand and stood. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am," she replied. "It'll take more than a fall to do me in." Then the implications of her words in their current situation hit her and she quickly added, "Come on, let's keep going."

Hinrik nodded and followed her across the well deck. As they approached the stairs leading up to the poop deck, they fell in behind a middle-aged man, who was walking like a zombie. "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death—" he was mumbling.

"You want to walk a little faster through that valley, there?" Astrid snapped, pushing the man and propelling him up the steps. He was too far gone to even acknowledge her.

The ship groaned and shuddered under their feet as the stern rose higher out of the water. The propellers emerged from the sea, glistening and dripping. Several people, deciding to take their chances in the water, climbed over the ship's rail and jumped, screaming as they plummeted into inky blackness. Hinrik shivered at the very thought, and then his heart sank when he realized that he and Astrid would be down there in a few short minutes. At this point, there was no avoiding it.

…

Gunnar watched with detached interest as the water swirled at the base of the grand staircase clock. He didn't bother checking the time as the sea concealed the clock face. Really, what would have been the point?

The _Titanic _groaned loudly as she dipped lower and lower, but Gunnar merely drummed his fingers on the banister, waiting patiently for his end to come. Nearby, another man dressed in his finest suit caught his eye and nodded. Clearly they were thinking along the same lines.

There was suddenly a series of crashes, and Gunnar looked around to see water pouring in through the windows that looked out upon what had once been the Boat Deck. Now it was just an endless expanse of darkness, and even this was quickly concealed by swirling seawater pouring into the foyer. It struck Gunnar and swept him off his feet, but he didn't fight it as it pushed him down the stairs toward A Deck. Someone yelled nearby before his voice was cut off by the ocean, and a woman screamed a prayer to the heavens, paddling frantically through the roiling vortex. Gunnar didn't swim. He merely floated atop the water, breathing when he could and holding his breath when he was submerged until he was brought again to the surface.

And then the glass dome over the staircase shattered with a deafening crash, followed immediately by a roar as the sea poured into the very heart of the ship. Gunnar was forced beneath the churning surface one last time and did not resurface. The faintest smile turned the corners of his mouth as the world around him faded to black.

…

Hinrik and Astrid staggered onto the poop deck and rushed toward the stern rail, pushing their way through a crowd of people who were all heading the same direction. "Come on, Astrid! We're almost there!" Hinrik gasped, panting from the exertion. Each step was more difficult than the last with the ship now listing so sharply. The propellers were twenty feet in the air and still rising. The _Titanic _was now sinking rapidly. She only had a few minutes left before she would slide beneath the waves and disappear forever.

Hinrik grabbed the rail of a nearby bench and used it to pull himself and Astrid further along. But before he could move on to the next handhold, a familiar voice rose above the screaming of the crowd: "Easy now, lad! You won't do yourself any good panicking like that! Take it nice and slow! That's it! Steady now!"

Hinrik's heart gave a huge bound and he cried, "Dad?! Dad is that you?!"

A big man turned and Hinrik recognized the red beard. Stanford's eyes widened. "Hinrik!" he yelled, holding out his hand. "Son! I thought you'd gone! I prayed you'd gone!"

"We've been unlucky," Hinrik replied, taking his father's hand and closing the distance between them.

"Haven't we all?" Stanford replied with a faint chuckle. "Oh Hinrik…I'm so sorry…"

Hinrik hugged his father. "It's not your fault, Dad," he said. "Don't blame yourself. Right now let's just focus on getting out of this alive, okay?"

Stanford nodded. "Right. Come on, then."

He led Hinrik and Astrid to the very edge of the ship, the furthest point they could go, and they all latched onto the aft rail near the flag mast as the deck's slant became steeper still. "Hello, Astrid," Stanford greeted, as if this was merely a chance meeting in the park. "I see Hinrik found you all right."

"Yeah," Astrid replied with a little laugh. She sounded slightly hysterical. "He saved my life. And my friends' too."

Stanford beamed proudly down at Hinrik, who grinned sheepishly up at him. He then turned and kissed Astrid. "Don't let go of my hand," he said, and she nodded.

"Astrid! Hinrik!"

They looked around, and Astrid cried, "Finn!"

The stout young man was making his way toward them, struggling against the steep incline and the swarm of passengers around him. His face was red and his eyes were filled with terror. He reached out, and Stanford grabbed his hand and helped him to the rail. "I've got you, lad. You're safe," he said soothingly as Finn clutched the flag mast with both hands.

"Where are Sven and Terry?" Astrid asked.

"I don't know," Finn panted. "We got separated at the bow. I don't know where they are."

Astrid swallowed her fear and said, "Well, at least you're safe."

Hinrik nodded. "Whatever happens now, we'll face it together."

Stanford clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "Together."

**A/N: I'm sorry, but…I mean, come on, you had to know that not all of the characters were going to make it out of this alive. It is **_**Titanic**_**, after all… **

**We're on the very brink of the final plunge now. Next chapter. **

**Hope you're enjoying it! **


	17. Chapter 16: Unsinkable

Chapter Sixteen

Unsinkable

The _Titanic _sank lower into the sea, her stern climbing ever skyward. A great cacophony of noise echoed up from inside her hull as everything she carried came crashing forward: chairs, potted plants, musical instruments, trunks, suitcases, bags, light fixtures, dishes, nightstands, books, bottles, food, all breaking free and toppling and creating a din that reverberated over the otherwise silent ocean. Her lights were still burning, though for how much longer no one knew for sure.

Hinrik clutched the stern rail so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was shivering from a combination of cold and fright and he couldn't stop it. He wanted to close his eyes so that he wouldn't have to watch 1500 other people clamor around him, all desperately trying to save themselves as certain doom churned and roiled hundreds of feet below. The second funnel toppled over but no one noticed; they were all too busy trying to put as much distance between themselves and the ocean as they could.

Astrid's hand tightened its hold on Hinrik's, and he looked down at her. His heart clenched. Her face was a perfect mirror of his thoughts. She was pale and shaking, her eyes wide, her mouth open in horror. Her braid had come loose sometime during their struggles, and her golden hair framed her face, accentuating her undisguised panic.

Hinrik hated seeing her so terribly afraid. She was Astrid Hofferson, the most fearless girl he'd ever met, the one who dared challenge the social structure by saving a first class man and spending time with him, inviting him below to her world to dance and sing and do things that no self-respecting person ought to do. She was the one who had rescued him, who had held out her hand and invited him to accept her aid even when he'd thought he was beyond hope. And now she was terrified, and he couldn't bear it. He cast around for anything he could do or say to distract her, and then he suddenly realized something.

"Astrid," he said, and she looked up at him questioningly. "This is where we first met."

Astrid blinked and glanced around, her eyes hovering for a second on the flag mast and flickering in recognition. She smiled weakly and reached up to kiss his cheek before burying her face in his chest.

Finn watched with wide eyes as people started losing their grip on the railing and falling down the deck toward the black abyss. He wanted so badly to help, but he knew that there was nothing he could do to save them all. There were over a thousand people left on this ship. There simply wasn't enough room along the rail for them all. Still, that didn't stop him from reaching out and seizing a young woman's hand as she stumbled and started to fall, screaming. "I've got you!" he grunted, pulling her back upright. "It's okay. You're all right now."

The woman thanked him and grasped the rail tightly. Finn allowed himself a small smile. At least he'd been able to help. How much good it did was hard to tell, but at least he'd tried.

Stanford kept glancing at Hinrik, his face full of fear and regret. He should never have booked passage aboard this ship. True, Grant Owens had insisted they travel on the biggest, most luxurious ship in the world and he'd seen no reason to argue. But Hinrik had tried to tell him that there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone aboard, and he'd brushed it off. He'd put too much faith in the safety of the ship, and where had it gotten him?

Hinrik was unaware of his father's guilt. He was preoccupied with making sure both he and Astrid stayed firmly planted at their spot along the rail. It wasn't easy. With each second the slant became harder to handle. He only had one hand on the rail but he didn't dare release Astrid's hand to give himself more support. So he settled for squeezing her fingers.

_How did I end up here? _he wondered. _How did any of us end up here? How could this have happened? _

The starry night, the black sea, and the dying ship had no answer for him.

…

From her seat in the lifeboat, Heather watched as the _Titanic _prepared for her final plunge. Her smug grin had long since vanished to be replaced with a look of utter disbelief. This wasn't possible. The _Titanic _was unsinkable, everyone said so. Her own father said so. It was accepted as fact that this ship was the safest in the world. Nothing could bring her down. Nothing could so much as scratch her paint. Yet…

The sounds of tortured metal and screaming people reached her even at her distance from the ailing liner, and she yearned to cover her ears. She would have done so if she hadn't been rowing the boat as far away from the _Titanic _as possible. Suction, the crewman in charge had said. The ship would suck them down with her if they were too close when she finally went to the bottom. Afraid for her life, she had obeyed and rowed, but surely they were far enough away by now. She'd been watching as the bow dipped under, as the forward funnel collapsed, as the propellers rose into the air. Now the once-great ship was pointing up like a giant finger cursing the skies.

Even in death she was beautiful. Her many windows and portholes blazed with light, piercing the blackness of the night and reflecting in the still waters. If only those sounds were the normal thrumming of engines and not the strained groaning of metal, if only the shrieks were cheers and laughter, if only the swarming mass of stranded passengers were dancing instead of fighting for their lives…if only…if only…

With a flash the lights went out, and she gasped aloud. Now the ocean was totally dark, and the _Titanic _was no longer visible. All that remained of the great ship was a vague outline against the starry night sky.

And a few minutes later, that too had disappeared.

…

When the lights went out, a great cry went up from those still left aboard. Hinrik clutched Astrid's hand even harder in fear. It had been bad enough before, but at least he could still see. Now that even that slight advantage was gone, he was more afraid than ever that he would lose her. "Oh God!" someone nearby gasped.

The sound was quiet at first, so quiet that Hinrik couldn't hear it over the yells and screams of the people around him. But it grew louder and louder until suddenly it was deafening: a great rumbling roar mingled with a strange splintering, cracking noise. Astrid let go of the rail in order to wrap both arms around Hinrik, and he used his free arm to hold her as close to him as possible. "What is that?" she whimpered.

Hinrik opened his mouth to say that he didn't know, but before he could get a word out the answer became startling clear. The ship, unable to bear the strain of holding her several-thousand-ton stern in the air, was breaking apart just aft of the third funnel. The deck beneath their feet shuddered, trembling with vibrations running the entire length of the ship…

…the _Titanic _let out one long piercing scream of mortal agony…

…and then they were falling.

The stern part of the ship plummeted back to the water, landing back in the glassy sea with a tremendous crash that sent Hinrik, Astrid, Stanford, and Finn hurtling into the aft rail. The ship seemed to level off, her last two funnels collapsed, and everything went still. Someone in the crowd yelled, "Look! She's going to float after all!"

He was wrong. Just as Hinrik was beginning to hope beyond hope that they would be spared, the deck beneath his feet gave a sickening lurch, and suddenly they were rising again, the slant quickly returning. They were going up much faster this time, and he realized that it wasn't going to stop. He looked down at Astrid, who was just visible to him in the near-darkness. "We have to move!" he yelled over the incredible din. "Come on!"

He pulled her over to the rail and helped her climb, a feat that became much more difficult as the ship rose toward the vertical. Astrid clambered up and over, soon finding herself crouching over the very hull of the ship as Hinrik dangled beneath her, in danger of falling into oblivion. Her heart throbbed painfully. "Hinrik!" she cried, reaching out. "Grab my hand! Quick!"

Hinrik did as told and took Astrid's hand in his. Like she had only two nights ago, she started to help him over the rail. Only this time, he was going in the other direction. _Oh the irony of it all… _he managed to think wryly even in his adrenaline-fueled distress. Next to them, Stanford was doing the same thing while Finn struggled to hold on to the now-horizontal railing.

Hinrik and Stanford both managed to climb atop the ship as she stopped moving, now sticking almost perfectly upright in the water. They all leaned over the rail, staring down at the mass of people holding on to whatever they could get their hands on. One by one they dropped as their fingers failed them, falling with screams into pitch blackness.

"Finn!" Astrid cried as she realized her friend hadn't joined them. He hadn't been able to get over in time and was now dangling over the abyss by one hand. He looked fearfully up at them and cried, "Help! Help me please!"

Hinrik, who was closest, reached out and called, "Here! Take my hand! I'll pull you over!"

Finn grunted and raised his other hand. His fingers clasped Hinrik's, but his palm was sweaty and he couldn't maintain his grip. "Come on!" Hinrik yelled. "Try again! Come on, Finn! Don't give up! You're going to America, you can't give up now!"

Finn grabbed Hinrik's hand once more, and Hinrik heaved. For a moment it looked as though he'd succeed.

And then Finn's hand slipped free again, and this time he dropped from the rail entirely. He screamed as he fell. "FINN!" Astrid cried, but her friend was gone, swallowed by the unforgiving ocean churning below.

"No," Hinrik gasped. "No…oh God, no…Finn…"

"Hinrik," Astrid put a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could do."

Hinrik didn't reply. He didn't have a chance. The ship shuddered beneath them and, with a groan, began her final plunge into the sea.

"This is it!" Stanford yelled from Hinrik's other side, and he felt his heart constrict. Their time was up. The _Titanic _was going down at last.

Astrid took Hinrik's hand and held it in a vice grip. Hinrik squeezed her fingers but could think of nothing to say.

Luckily Stanford took charge. "The ship's gonna suck us down. Take a deep breath when I say." Hinrik glanced up at him and nodded, his throat too tight for speech. Returning his gaze to the water, he saw that only a hundred feet or so of the ship remained above the surface. They had less than thirty seconds left. "Kick for the surface and keep kicking," Stanford continued. "Whatever you do, don't let go of each other."

Hinrik nodded again. Astrid looked up at him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "We're gonna make it, Hinrik!" She had to yell to be heard over the churning of the sea now encroaching on them, bits of white froth speckling their faces. "Trust me!"

Hinrik met her eyes and replied, "I trust you." And he did.

The ship gained speed. Only a few feet of deck remained. She was almost gone.

"Ready?" Stanford bellowed. "NOW!"

Hinrik and Astrid inhaled deeply and held their breath.

And then the ocean closed over the _Titanic_'s stern, swallowing her flag mast in one final gulp, throwing 1500 people into the icy sea.

**A/N: Recent developments have suggested that the **_**Titanic **_**didn't quite go down the way it's portrayed in the film. The going theory right now is that she broke apart much lower in the water, and the stern keeled over almost completely onto its port side, only going vertical just as it slipped beneath the surface. But I chose to stick to the film's portrayal purely for the drama. Please forgive the potential historical inaccuracy. **

**Hope you're enjoying this! **


	18. Chapter 17: The Promise

**A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much! More than 100 reviews! You guys rock! This is the first story I've ever written that's gotten more than 43 reviews, let alone 100. Thank you all so much, I can't tell you how happy this makes me! **

**And now back to the story…**

Chapter Seventeen

The Promise

_I'm dead_, Hinrik thought as he was swept into the water. _I've died and gone to hell. _

It was easy to believe that. The ocean was below freezing, and his entire body felt as though it was being assaulted by a million sharp blades stabbing and slicing into him without stopping. It was intensely, excruciatingly painful, and he let out a garbled scream in spite of himself, sending a stream of bubbles to the surface.

The worst part about it all was that Astrid's hand had been torn from his almost the moment they went into the water. He was alone.

Or at least he thought he was alone. But when he finally kicked his way back to the surface and took a great lungful of air, he remembered that he and Astrid hadn't been the only people on board the ship when it went down. There were 1500 others in the water with him, and judging by the sound of things, he wasn't the only one feeling the sting of the ocean's touch.

"Astrid!" he screamed, trying to make himself heard above the unearthly noise rising up all around him. "Astrid! Dad! Astrid!"

He got no answer, which really was no surprise. There was no way anyone could hear him with over a thousand others shrieking just as loudly. Yet still he continued to call for his father and the woman he loved. His lungs hurt with each breath and his throat seemed to be tearing with each sound he made but he kept yelling until…

"Hinrik!"

He turned and felt his heart give a little stutter of relief – under the circumstances it was the best it could do. Astrid was paddling toward him, her pale face swimming eerily in the darkness. "Hinrik, come on," she gasped as she reached him, taking his hand. "Swim! We need to swim! We need to get out of this water!"

Hinrik nodded mutely and followed her as she began kicking, putting some distance between themselves and the others swarming and thrashing in the sea. "It's so cold!" he gasped. He hadn't known it was physically possible for water to hurt this much.

"I know," Astrid replied. "Just keep going, Hinrik! Find something to hold on to! Anything!"

Hinrik looked as he continued kicking, his arms paddling the water in jerky, spastic motions. Each movement was acutely painful but they kept swimming, focusing only on the task at hand. The lifeboats were all too far away to reach, but there was a variety of debris floating about. Surely there was something they could hold on to until help arrived…

There! A large chunk of elegant paneling, probably from the first class smoking room. It was a sizable piece. It looked big enough to hold them both.

"Go on, g-get on," Hinrik said, motioning for Astrid to climb onto the wood. She hesitated for a moment, perhaps considering telling him to get on first, but in the end her own needs won out. She reached up and hoisted herself onto the piece of debris, sliding along on her belly until she rested almost entirely atop it.

"Now you," she gasped.

Hinrik nodded and copied her movements, but almost at once the paneling tipped and nearly dumped Astrid back into the water. She yelped and Hinrik let go, allowing it to level off. "It won't hold us both," Hinrik observed.

"Yes it will!" Astrid insisted. "It has to! There's plenty of room!"

Hinrik frowned and considered. "All right," he said. "Get as far over as you can, use your weight to balance it out."

Astrid did as told, scooting to the far edge of the wood and leaving the half nearest Hinrik bare. Hinrik hoisted himself up again, and this time he was able to climb onto the paneling without tipping it. It rested low in the water and his left foot was submerged up to the knee, but they were both mostly out of the ocean. It would have to do until help arrived. "There," he gasped. "Come closer. We can t-try warming each other."

Astrid nodded and huddled as close to Hinrik as she could, folding her arms in front of her chest as he enclosed her within his grasp. They both shivered violently, puffs of mist bursting from their pale lips. "We'll…we'll be all r-right now," Astrid mumbled, and Hinrik nodded.

A shrill blast cut over the screaming and Hinrik raised his head just a little to see an officer clinging to a crate. He had a whistle at his lips and was blowing as hard as he could. Lowering the instrument he bellowed, "_Return the boats!_" and then went back to whistling.

"You hear that?" Hinrik said. "The boats will be coming b-back for us. We'll be saved. They had to row away b-because of the suction, but now they'll all return. It'll just be a f-few minutes and then we'll be s-safe."

Astrid just nodded mutely, pressing her head to Hinrik's neck in a vain attempt to find warmth. But he was soaked through just like her. She had to content herself with listening to the sound of his pulse against her cheek. It was a soothing sound, a steady rhythm that reminded her that he was alive, they both were, and they were going to make it out of this.

They just had to wait for a little while…

_Tha-thump…tha-thump…tha-thump… _

…

Terry was a man with a love for destruction. He always had been, ever since he was a child and he'd accidentally set fire to his teddy bear. As he'd grown up, he'd always been morbidly fascinated with the science of things falling apart. Chaos, confusion, devastation, these were all things he craved. The rush it brought him to see things falling apart, there was no comparison. He'd heard others talk about the adrenaline they felt when they did daring stunts or rode cheap amusement park thrill rides, and that was the closest approximation he'd ever been able to come up with. And even that didn't quite describe it.

As far as he knew, he was the only person in the world, apart from his sister, who felt this way about destruction. Everyone else looked at him like he was mentally unbalanced whenever he mentioned his bizarre fixation. They tended to like things neat and orderly, and chaos was unwelcome in their daily lives. But Terry reveled in it. It was why he'd been able to keep his calm through so much of the sinking.

But even he had his limits, and they had been far exceeded on this night.

He'd watched from his position in the water, clinging to the keel of the overturned collapsible as the _Titanic _had sunk lower into the water, her stern rising higher and higher. He'd listened to the screaming of the panicking passengers whose lives were now in jeopardy, and any love he might have once had for watching the ship sink disappeared on the spot. He drew the line at physical harm. Oh sure, watching the sea destroy the fine furnishings belowdecks had been thrilling, but seeing the funnel collapse on top of his friend had sapped every ounce of adrenaline from his blood. No matter how long he lived he would never forget watching Sven turn around, see his death coming at him from above, raise his hands in vain placation, and then disappear from the earth forever in one fell swoop. This was destruction Terry had never witnessed before: the destruction of a human life. And he decided on the spot he didn't like it one bit.

It was bad enough watching one person die. But as he drifted with the other passengers clinging to the capsized boat, he'd seen multitudes of people meet their ends. Whether they were crushed by funnels, trapped in flooding rooms of the ship, sucked into broken windows or gaping holes left by the missing funnels, or killed from exposure to the icy water, people were dying right before his eyes, and he couldn't take it. It was too much.

In the end, he'd closed his eyes, unable to watch as the great _Titanic _broke apart and plunged beneath the surface forever. It was ironic. He'd heard the ship splitting apart and could tell that this was the ultimate destruction, destruction on a level he'd never imagined, yet he was deliberately missing it because he knew people were getting hurt, and he didn't want to see that.

Even now people were continuing to die. He could hear their screams echoing off the water, but those screams were starting to fade now. Exposure was sucking the life out of them one by one. In a matter of minutes, he knew, silence would descend upon the ocean, a silence that meant 1500 people had left this earth for whatever lay beyond.

Someone jostled his arm and he only barely managed to keep his hold on the slippery keel. In some vague corner of his mind he realized he could no longer feel the bottom half of his body, the half submerged in the freezing water. Multiple times he'd tried pulling himself further up onto the boat, but each time he'd met resistance. The boat was just too crowded for him to move any further. So he stayed where he was, his hands desperately clutching at whatever purchase he could find. By some miracle of buoyancy the lifeboat hadn't sunk yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time. Even now it was floating lower in the water than it had been earlier.

His fingers slipped and he gasped, scrabbling to stay on the boat. "H-help," he croaked, his voice weak and frail as the cold sucked the strength from his lungs.

No one helped him. They couldn't even help themselves.

Terry cast his mind around, trying to think of something, anything that could distract him from the unbearable cold that was even now creeping up his torso, affecting his breathing.

His thoughts settled on his sister. He smiled. At least he knew Riley hadn't been in the midst of all that suffering. She was safe in one of the boats, he'd made sure of that. He wasn't necessarily the sharpest arrow in the quiver, but he was smart enough to understand that being in a boat would make all the difference between life and a cold, miserable death. He'd known that even before he'd fully comprehended the scope and scale of the disaster at hand. And despite their near-constant bickering, he loved his sister dearly. Apart from their mother, she was the only person he had left in the world, and he cherished her. So it was a huge relief to know that she was safe and not out in the midst of all those poor souls in the water, screaming like the damned as they slowly died.

His vision was starting to go fuzzy, and he shook his head slightly to clear it. It did no good: the boat in front of his eyes shimmered and blurred. Strangely enough, it didn't bother him too badly. He was so tired. He'd been woken up in the dead of night and told by an impatient steward to put his lifebelt on and wait for further instruction. No one had told him what was going on. No one seemed to know. He'd spent the last two and a half hours running all over the blasted ship, looking for a way to the Boat Deck, and then he'd been thrown into the ocean while desperately clinging onto the collapsible. All he wanted was a little sleep, was that too much to ask for?

He blinked several times as his vision faded in earnest, and he sighed. Maybe a quick little nap wouldn't hurt. After all, he'd need his strength in the morning. Besides, he was just so tired…

He'd want to be fully awake when he was reunited with Riley…

He closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. He didn't inhale again. A moment later his fingers slackened and released their hold on the boat. His body slipped into the water and sank from sight in moments. No one reached to pull him back.

…

The screaming had died away, but somehow the silence it left behind was louder, deafening, pressing on Hinrik's ears as he and Astrid drifted on their little chunk of paneling. The officer's whistle had gone quiet some time ago, and now the only sound was the gentle lapping of water over the edge of the wood beneath them, the shuddering gasps of their ragged breathing, the sluggish beating of their hearts.

"It's g-getting quiet," Hinrik observed, his voice slightly raspy.

Pressed against his body, Astrid nodded. "J-just a few more m-minutes," she said. "It'll t-take them a while to get the b-boats org-ganized." She shuddered and snuggled even closer to Hinrik, if such a thing was possible. "I don't know ab-bout you," she added, "but I p-plan on writing a strongly-worded letter to the W-White Star Line about all this…"

She gave a weak chuckle, though to Hinrik's ears it sounded more like a gasp of pain. He felt his heart clench. He prayed she was all right. She couldn't die, not here, not now, not after everything they'd been through. It wasn't fair. He hadn't even told her…

"I love you, Astrid," he murmured.

He felt her stiffen in his arms and she drew back slightly. "No," she gasped. "Don't do that. Don't you dare. Don't say your good-byes. Don't you give up. Don't do it."

Hinrik shook his head and felt his muscles shriek in protest. "I'm n-not," he said. "I'm just saying…I love you. I haven't t-told you yet."

"You'll have p-plenty of chances to tell me later," Astrid insisted. "Later. When we're rescued. When we reach N-New York. Then you can t-tell me you love me as m-much as you want. In fact, I'll p-punch you if you don't."

Hinrik chuckled weakly. Then he grimaced as a swell of water engulfed his leg for a moment. "I'm so cold," he moaned.

"Listen to me," Astrid said. "You're g-going to get out of here. We both are. We're going to go to New York and t-take in all the sights. We'll catch a couple of shows and l-laugh at the silly dances they do on s-stage. We're going to grow old, very old. And when we die, we'll be nice and w-warm in our b-beds, surrounded by our g-grandchildren. Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me?"

Hinrik nodded but there were more pressing matters weighing on his mind. "I…I can't f-feel my foot," he mumbled.

Astrid slapped her palm against his chest. It was so weak that he didn't even flinch. "Hinrik, winning that t-ticket was the b-best thing that ever happened to m-me. It b-brought me to you." She kissed his neck. "And I'm thankful, Hinrik…so th-thankful." She put her hands on his chest, and in spite of the cold Hinrik felt his heart flutter. "You…you must do me this honor," she continued. "Promise me…you'll survive. That you'll…never give up, n-no matter what happens…no matter how hopeless it s-seems. Promise me now, Hinrik…and never let go of that promise."

Hinrik tightened his hold on her slightly, pressing her to his body. "I will…if you promise the s-same thing."

Astrid blinked, surprised. Then she rolled her eyes. Of course Hinrik would turn it around on her like that. She sighed and said, "Yes…I promise…I promise I'll survive, Hinrik. Because if you survive…then I have a reason to as well."

Hinrik grinned and kissed her hair. He noticed it was flecked with frost. "Then I promise too."

Astrid let out a relieved breath. "And n-never let go of that promise."

"I'll never let go, Astrid," Hinrik murmured, and to prove his point he held her a little tighter. "I'll never let go…not if you don't."

"And I won't," Astrid swore. "A H-Hofferson never goes back on her w-word."

"Good to kn-know," Hinrik remarked, and Astrid let out a faint, breathless laugh. There was a moment's pause.

Then Astrid said, "Hinrik?"

"Hmm?"

She pressed her palm to his chest, over his heart. "I love you too."

Hinrik smiled.

After that there was nothing more to say. They continued to hold each other in silence, shivering with the cold, each clutching for whatever scraps of warmth they could find in the other's body.

All they could do now was wait.

**A/N: Okay. Take a deep breath. The next chapter is what a lot of you – in fact, dare I say, most of you – have been waiting for. The big reveal. Who will survive? And just so you know: me changing things up a bit to put them both on the paneling means nothing. It is not a guarantee that one, both, or either of them will survive. Hinrik and Astrid (and Stanford too) are still in serious peril and their lives are hanging in the balance. All bets are off. You'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out if either of them makes it out of this alive. **

**And on that cryptic note…hope you're enjoying it! **


	19. Chapter 18: Pulled From the Water

**A/N: All I can say is…get ready… **

Chapter Eighteen

Pulled From the Water

Time crawled by.

Seconds ticked sluggishly into oblivion. _Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…_

Seconds trickled like sand in an hourglass, each insignificant grain of sand, a microscopic speck, barely visible to the naked eye, meaningless on its own. Yet combined with other grains they made up units of time. A cluster of seconds. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Thirty.

Sixty seconds…sixty ticks of a clock…one minute…

_Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…_

One minute slid slowly into two, two into three, three into four, four into five…

Five into ten…

Ten into fifteen…

Fifteen into thirty…

_Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…_

On and on the time crawled by, never minding the people dying off one by one in the freezing waters of the North Atlantic one cold April morning in 1912. Time is indifferent, impartial, neutral. Cold, stone-hearted, uncaring.

_Will those boats ever come back? _

Hinrik looked up at the starry night sky. It stretched above him, as vast and endless as time itself. Perhaps there was a beginning and end to it all somewhere, but not here. Not to his eyes. Just a neverending span of black sky dotted with glowing white dots, grains of sand against the backdrop of black, uncaring time.

He inhaled sharply as a shooting star streaked across the heavens. It was gone in a second but it stirred something in his memory, a conversation…

"_You know, my father used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven." _

Astrid had said that. They'd been walking along the deck of the _Titanic_, before either of them had any inkling of what was to happen in the hours to come. A soul going to heaven. Whose soul? Was it one of the people out there in the water, their body finally giving up its fight for life and surrendering its soul to the sky?

He shook himself mentally and tried to distract himself from this train of thought. He tried to remember what else they'd talked about. Wishes. They were supposed to wish on a shooting star. He'd wished for the ability to fly. His wish had come true.

He wondered what Astrid's wish was.

She didn't seem to have any real desires. She always seemed perfectly happy whenever Hinrik saw her. She smiled. She laughed. She sang. She danced.

They had sung and danced together, he remembered now. What was the song again? It was important to him, he knew. Something to do with his parents…

That's right! Their wedding song. The one his mother loved to sing…

He took a deep, shuddering breath and croaked out:

"_I'll s-swim and sail on s-savage seas_

_With ne'er a f-fear of d-drowning_

_And gladly ride the waves of l-life_

_If you will m-marry m-me_"

He rubbed Astrid's arms, trying to warm her. She didn't respond, but he wasn't surprised. She was just as cold as he was. There was no warmth to be found.

More to distract himself than anything else, he continued to sing shakily:

"_N-no scorching sun nor f-freezing cold_

_Will s-stop me on my journ-ney_

_If you will p-promise me y-your h-heart…_"

He waited for Astrid to pick up the next line. She remained silent.

"_And love…_" he prodded, hoping it would jog her memory, but she didn't sing. Hinrik frowned. "Astrid?" He shook her shoulders. "Astrid, are…are you awake?"

She didn't answer. His heart clenched and his breathing hitched. Oh no…dear God no…she couldn't…she wasn't…

"_And l-love me f-for et-ternity…_"

Hinrik sighed in relief as Astrid finally responded. Her voice was weak and shook worse than his, but she sang as if her life depended on it.

"_My d-dearest one, my d-darling d-dear_

_Your m-mighty w-words ast-tound m-me_

_But I've n-no need of m-mighty deeds_

_When I f-feel your arms ar-round m-me_"

Relief flooded every pore of Hinrik's body, and he was so elated he continued singing the song despite the pain each word brought to his throat.

"_B-but I would b-bring you rings of g-gold_

_I'd even s-sing you p-poetry_

_And I would k-keep you from all h-harm _

_If…if you…_"

He stopped singing, frowning as a new sound reached his ears. He raised his head slightly and looked around. "Hinrik?" Astrid asked. "What is it?"

"I…I don't…" He strained his eyes, squinted at the small black mass that seemed to be moving across the water. A faint light played on the surface of the ocean, and the faint strains of a man's voice echoed across to them.

"_Is there anyone alive out there?! Can anyone hear me?!_"

Hinrik's heart bounded. "Astrid…there's a b-boat! See it? Over there! Th-they've come back f-for us! Hey!" he tried to yell but his voice was too weak to emit more than a strangled croak. "Hey! Over here! We're over here! Wait! Come get us, please!"

"Over here!" Astrid cried, her voice just as soft and frail as Hinrik's. "Don't leave us! Come here! We're over here! Hey! This way!"

"They don't hear us," Hinrik gasped, his heart clenching. If that boat didn't save them, if it left them here…

_No! _

His eyes fell on the dead officer, his body still clinging to the crate, the whistle hanging from his frozen lips.

"Wait here," he said to Astrid. He shifted, trying to roll his stiff, unyielding body back into the sea.

"What…what are you doing?" Astrid squeaked, alarmed.

"I'm going to get their attention," Hinrik explained, and the next second he hit the water with a splash. He gasped as the pain returned full-force. His vision swam and blurred but he shook his head and struck out clumsily for the officer. Astrid continued to call out to the lifeboat, "Come back! Come back! Please, come back! Come back!" But they didn't hear her.

Hinrik, his movements stiff and jerky, finally reached the dead officer. With numb and trembling fingers, he wrenched the whistle from the pale blue lips and put it to his own mouth. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he blew. The sound was weak, but the shrill note carried across the water toward the lifeboat. The light paused in its sweeping motions and turned back toward him. He kept blowing on the whistle, blowing and blowing, the trills piercing the silence of the night over and over until he finally heard someone call, "There! Over there! There's a man! Come about!"

Hinrik dropped the whistle, which disappeared immediately into the black ocean, but it didn't matter anymore. The boat was coming. They were saved.

The boat was positioned so that it reached the piece of paneling Astrid was still lying on first. When it reached her she was finally able to make her voice heard, and the boat paused to pick her up. Hinrik breathed a sigh of relief. She was out of the water at last. She was going to be all right.

He, on the other hand…

His vision was fading fast and he couldn't feel his lower body. His reentrance into the water after being out of it for so long had given his body more of a shock than it was able to handle in its condition, and he was fading fast. "H-help," he gasped, reaching out for the boat as it slowly approached.

"Hinrik!" Astrid called. "Hang on, Hinrik, we're coming!"

But Hinrik couldn't hang on anymore. His fingers slipped from the crate and he dropped beneath the surface. He spluttered and kicked feebly, reemerging for a moment. "Hinrik!" Astrid cried.

Hinrik just managed to wave one hand in the air before he dipped under again, and he knew he wasn't going to resurface. He just didn't have the strength.

At least Astrid was safe…

Then someone grabbed his hand and pulled. He gasped and gagged on seawater as his head broke the surface once more. "Hinrik!" Astrid moaned. "No…come on, Hinrik…come on…"

The man in the boat who had grabbed his arm pulled him up. Hinrik neither helped nor hindered as he was lifted from the water, and a moment later he tumbled into the bottom of the lifeboat, finally free of the sea's lethal clutches.

The moment he was in the boat, he was wrapped up in blankets, bundled up like a newborn baby. Astrid, similarly covered, scooted over to him and put a hand on his cheek. "Hinrik," she sighed. "Oh God, Hinrik…I thought…I thought you were…"

"Shh," Hinrik hissed quietly, somehow managing to smile at her. "I'm all r-right now, Astrid. We b-both are. We're g-gonna make it, just like you s-said." He kissed her and added, "I love you, Astrid."

"I love you too," Astrid murmured, and she snuggled up as close to him as she could, smiling now that the worst of the night was finally behind them.

The lifeboat continued searching for survivors, rowing slowly through the bodies and wreckage that peppered the glassy surface of the sea. Hinrik and Astrid paid no mind to any of it, ignoring the officer's yells of, "Hello?! Can anyone hear me?!" They pressed themselves as close together as they could manage with the blankets between them, and their shivering eased just a little.

And then one of the crewmen in the boat called, "Look, sir! There's someone there!"

"Row toward him," the officer ordered. "Steady, now."

Hinrik looked up in mild curiosity at the form they approached. It was a big man clutching a deck chair. He had a red beard covered with bits of ice.

"Dad!" Hinrik gasped, sitting up suddenly. "That's my dad over there!"

The boat drew up alongside Stanford and Hinrik leaned over the side of the boat to shake his shoulder. "Dad, we made it!" he said, breathless with relief. "You're safe now! Come on, we'll get you in the boat."

Stanford didn't move. His eyes were closed. "Dad?" Hinrik shook his shoulder more vigorously. "Come on, Dad. Wake up! We're safe now, all of us! We're together, just like you said we would be! Now come on, get in the boat!"

There was no response. Hinrik's smile slowly slipped from his face as an awful thought occurred to him. But no…it couldn't be…Stanford was too strong to…

"Dad!" he cried, his voice starting to tremble in fear. "Come on, Dad! Open your eyes, Dad, please! Just open them, Dad! We're here! There's a boat, Dad! There's a boat…"

Nothing.

"No…no!" Hinrik grabbed his father's hand, wrenching it free from the deck chair and trying to pull him toward the boat. "Come on, Dad! Please…please Dad…" His voice broke as hot tears stung the corners of his eyes. "Please…please…no…there's a boat, Dad…there's a boat…" His throat tightened and he couldn't say anything more.

"Sir," said the officer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid…there's nothing we can do for him now. He's…he's gone."

"No!" Hinrik choked, shaking his head in denial. "No, he can't be! He's strong! He's a good swimmer! He…he can't…can't be…" He couldn't say the word. His tongue refused to form the single syllable pounding in his brain. "Dad…" he whimpered. "Dad please…just _breathe_…just breathe, for God's sake, Dad, please just breathe, show them you can still breathe…please…please…"

Words failed him. His vision blurred as his tears spilled over and ran down his cheeks. Heavy, wracking sobs burst from his chest, and he bent over the rail of the boat, still clutching Stanford's lifeless hand in his own. Astrid slowly came up behind him and put her hand on his back, trying to offer some kind of comfort to him. She tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind.

After a moment, Hinrik took a deep, shuddering breath and whispered, "I…I don't think there's anything left unsaid between us, Dad. We didn't always see eye-to-eye on things, but…I know you always had my best interests at heart, even if I didn't realize it then. You…" He gulped and, his voice quavering, continued, "You were the best father I could have…ever asked for…" He bent his head down and kissed Stanford's knuckles. "I love you, Dad." Then he let go of the hand, allowing his father's body to slide silently down into the inky blackness of the water below. Hinrik watched him sink out of sight, his red beard drifting upward and covering his pale, bloodless face. A moment later he was gone. "Good-bye."

Astrid reached out and gently pulled him back into the boat, lowering him into the keel and wrapping her arms around him. She said nothing. She knew better than to try offering comfort with mere words. She simply held him. After a second or two, he wrapped his arms around her and started to cry. His whole body shook and heaved with sobs, and Astrid just held him against her, offering silent warmth and security. Hinrik tried to thank her but he couldn't get the words out around his gasps and moans, so he settled for tightening his arms around her.

His sobs subsided after a while, and silence fell over the lifeboat. No one spoke. They hardly moved. Hinrik was vaguely aware that the crewmen were rowing and they were approaching the other boats, but he stayed down in the bottom, huddled with Astrid with his eyes closed. For what seemed like an eternity he drifted in and out of consciousness. Fatigue washed over him, draining him of his last vestiges of energy, but every time he thought sleep was about to claim him, the wind would pick up, or the boat would bob uncomfortably, and he'd be jerked back into wakefulness.

Then, after what felt like a lifetime, Astrid gasped and said, "Hinrik, look!"

He opened his eyes blearily and followed her gaze to the night sky. He frowned and was about to say that he didn't see anything, but then suddenly he heard a faint bang, and a burst of white light appeared in the distance. He blinked. He'd seen something like that before, but at the moment he couldn't place it.

Then it hit him. He'd seen that kind of light on the deck of the _Titanic _as she was sinking. "Was that a…"

"A rocket!" Astrid said. "There's a ship, Hinrik! There's a ship coming to get us! We're saved! We're going to be all right!"

Hinrik didn't answer. He didn't dare believe it. It was too much to hope that a rescue ship was just on the horizon. But a few minutes later, another rocket went up. It was still too dark to see any ship that might have been coming, but Hinrik couldn't help but feel his heart lift nonetheless. Astrid was right and he knew it. Those were rockets, which meant that there had to be a ship nearby.

It was all over. They were saved.

**A/N: Please don't hurt me for the two fake-outs! **

**(Sits back and waits to for the readers' reactions with bated breath…) **


	20. Chapter 19: Reunion

**A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to all you who left reviews! You guys are awesome! (Except for "anonomous." All I can say to you is, if you can't be constructive in your criticism, then don't bother leaving a review at all. It does me no good and makes you look like an idiot, so neither of us benefit from it.) **

**Anyway, on to the next chapter! **

Chapter Nineteen

Reunion

Dawn had come, throwing pink and gold light over the ocean by the time the _Carpathia_, the little steamship that had come to their aid, finally began taking on survivors. One by one the _Titanic_'s lifeboats pulled up alongside the black hull, and one by one people climbed up the rope ladder provided for them. In some cases passengers had to be carried up in a rope sling, too weak from cold to make the climb themselves.

Hinrik was one of those people. His left leg was numb from his calf down to his toes, and his ankle refused to bend. He simply could not climb up the rope ladder, and when he was finally deposited onto the deck of the _Carpathia_, he was told to seek the ship's doctor. Unfortunately, the doctor had his hands full and could only pause long enough to ask him to remove his shoe. Hinrik did so, and he gasped. The skin of his left foot was an ugly blue-purple in color, and the entire appendage was slightly swollen.

"Frostbite," the doctor diagnosed. "And it's pretty severe." He wrapped the leg up to the knee and told Hinrik to keep it moving. If he didn't, there was a good chance he would lose the foot entirely. Normally this would have terrified Hinrik, yet after everything he'd faced over the previous twelve hours, he couldn't do more than just nod resignedly and accept the crutch offered to him.

After that came the most heartbreaking part of the whole disaster: finding out if their friends had survived.

Hinrik, hobbling with his crutch and aided by Astrid, quickly scanned the rail for familiar faces and found none. "Excuse me," he said to a passing crewman carrying a clipboard. "Is…is there a Gunnar Benton on board?"

The man consulted his list and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, sir, but there are still some boats left in the water. He may be in one of them."

Hinrik nodded and stood by the rail with the other survivors waiting anxiously to find out if their loved ones were among the living. It soon became apparent, however, that Gunnar hadn't made it onto a boat. Hinrik's heart clenched but he could do no more than sigh shakily. It was still too much of a shock. The real grief wouldn't hit for several more hours.

Afterward they headed aft, where the few steerage passengers that had survived were huddled. Here the overwhelming sense of despair was much more prevalent. Widows hunched over, their faces hidden by shawls. Orphans sat among strangers, crying out for their missing parents. An old woman was sobbing in a foreign language, clearly looking for her missing loved one. Hinrik and Astrid caught sight of the child they'd saved, Corey, sitting silently with his parents, one lucky family that had somehow managed to escape together, but they were among the distinct minority.

"Astrid!"

They turned around, Hinrik staggering slightly, and saw Riley running toward them, her face pale and streaked with tears. She nearly rammed Astrid to the deck with the force of her embrace, but Astrid caught herself in time and hugged her friend back. "Riley! There you are!"

They drew apart and Astrid asked, "Have you seen any of the others?"

Riley's face fell. "No. Have you?"

Hinrik and Astrid both shook their heads. "No, we haven't either," Astrid said. "We were hoping that you…" She trailed off hopelessly.

"Terry," Riley moaned. "Oh God…my poor brother…" She dissolved once more into tears, and Astrid pulled her into her arms. Hinrik looked on sadly but said nothing, letting Astrid deliver what comfort she could to her friend.

After some time, Riley sniffed and drew back. Her watery eyes fell on Hinrik's bandaged foot. "What happened?" she asked in real concern.

"Frostbite," Hinrik explained. "I spent a great deal of time with my foot in the water. The doctor says I might lose the leg." He shrugged. "Small price to pay, I suppose."

Riley simpered, and then she asked, "What about your crowd? Did any of them…?"

Hinrik hesitated and shook his head. "No. My father and friend are both…" His throat tightened and he couldn't finish.

Then, to Hinrik's surprise, Riley hugged him too. "I'm so sorry, Hinrik," she murmured.

Hinrik returned the embrace. "Me too." Then he looked up at Astrid and held out one arm. Smiling faintly, Astrid joined them, and the three friends simply stood there for a long time, silently mourning together for all they'd lost.

"Hinrik?"

He stiffened at the sound of her voice. With everything that had happened he had completely forgotten about her. She'd gotten off on one of the earlier boats and escaped his mind entirely. But now she was back, and a black hatred clawed its way up his throat as he detached himself from Astrid and Riley, turning slowly around to look behind him.

Heather looked distinctly disheveled. Her normally immaculate hair was hanging loose and untidy around her face. Her face was white, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her lower lip seemed to be trembling slightly. She took a cautious step toward him. "Hinrik…is that really you?"

Hinrik said nothing, but he nodded curtly. Just behind him, Astrid scowled at the woman in cold fury, but she made no move toward her. No one said anything for a long moment.

Then Heather took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. "You…you survived."

"Yes," Hinrik said coldly. "How awkward for you."

Heather blinked. "No, I…I'm relieved. Truly. I was worried that you…" She trailed off, apparently unnerved by the unconcealed contempt both Hinrik and Astrid were sending her way. She cleared her throat. "Is your father…?" She left the question open.

Hinrik shook his head stiffly. "No. He…didn't make it."

"Oh." She looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Hinrik."

Hinrik didn't respond.

"And…and my father?" Heather asked, sounding as if she wasn't sure she really wanted to know. "Have you seen him?"

"No," Hinrik replied, still in that cold, hard voice. "I haven't seen him or Milton since they chased me and Astrid through the ship with a gun."

Heather's eyes widened. "With a gun?" she repeated, sounding stunned. "My father would never—"

"He did last night," Hinrik cut her off. "He tried to kill us both. So you'll forgive me if I don't burst into tears for him."

Heather broke eye contact, looking down at the deck beneath her feet. He wasn't sure, but Hinrik rather thought he saw tears forming in her eyes.

After a minute of awkward silence, Hinrik said, "Tell you what, Heather. I have a business proposition for you."

Heather looked up at him, startled. "Business proposition?" she repeated.

"Yes," Hinrik said, nodding curtly. "It's a language your father knew well, and I'm sure you must have picked up some of it yourself over the years. You certainly knew how to use my mother's illness to your advantage."

Heather's cheeks colored slightly but, to her credit, she didn't back down. "And…what is your proposal, Hinrik?"

"It is this," Hinrik said. "From this moment on, you do not exist for me, nor I for you. I ended our engagement last night and my decision still stands. I will never seek you out, and you will never seek me out. You will make no attempt to find me or try to win me back. If we pass in the street you will not try to talk to me or even look at me. You and I will be strangers for the rest of our lives."

Heather's eyes widened but she said nothing.

"In exchange," Hinrik continued, "I offer my silence. The world need never know about your father's despicable behavior of last night. His name and reputation will remain intact. And, by extension, so will yours. A woman's reputation is a delicate thing, after all, and any scandal that attaches itself to your father will inevitably bring you down as well. But if you hold up your end of the bargain, your father's actions will never come to light, and you can keep the honor he so carefully built up for you both."

He could see Heather trying to think this over, could almost hear the gears turning as she considered. "And…if I refuse?"

Hinrik raised his eyebrows. "If you refuse, I will still shun you in the streets. I will have nothing more to do with you. And the world will know all about your father's attempts to kill me last night. It will be my word against yours, but I have a witness to back up my claim." He jerked his head toward Astrid, who nodded. Heather's eyes flicked to her and she blinked, as if she had just realized she'd been there the whole time. "I promise you," Hinrik went on, "that if you choose to fight me on this, I will win." He lowered his voice and asked in a tone as cold and icy as the sea, "Is this in any way unclear?"

Heather swallowed and appeared to be trying to find a loophole. Then she sighed, and she seemed to deflate slightly. "Very well, Hinrik," she murmured. "You have a deal."

She raised her left hand, where her engagement ring gleamed in the early morning sunlight. With trembling fingers, she slipped it off and handed it over to Hinrik, who pocketed it without glancing at it once.

"Good-bye, Mr. Haddock," Heather said, taking a step backward. She glanced up into his eyes and hesitated. "I…" She gulped. "I'm…sorry. About everything."

Hinrik blinked as he came to a sudden realization. She loved him. She was selfish and vain and cruel, but in her own way, the only way she knew, she really loved him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

In the end it didn't matter. Heather turned around and walked away, keeping her head high. A moment later she disappeared into the ship, and Hinrik never saw her again.

Astrid put a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face her, smiling weakly. He pushed aside the feelings of guilt that were threatening to burst free and pulled her into an embrace. The pain and grief would come soon enough, and when they did he would mourn with all the others who had lost family and friends to the North Atlantic. But for now, he just wanted to stand here with the woman he loved in his arms, able to breathe easily now that they were in no danger of being separated again. She was all he needed to be happy.

Well…that and one other thing.

He could really do with some sleep.

**A/N: Only one more chapter left, guys! We're in the home stretch now! I can't believe it! I've never written a story of this length before and I feel awesome about it! I sincerely hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. **

**Well the last chapter is complete, I just want to give it one last edit before I post it. Stay tuned! **

**Oh! If you're interested, I made a little title page/poster for this story. You can find it on my deviantART page (same username), or copy this link and remove the spaces: **** horrorfan6. deviantart [dot com] / art / Titanic-507121399**


	21. Chapter 20: Journey's End

**A/N: Well, this is it. The last chapter. Kind of bittersweet, really. On the one hand, I'm excited the story's complete, but on the other…this has been such an enjoyable experience that I'm kind of sorry to see it end…**

**Ah well…enjoy! **

Chapter Twenty

Journey's End

Thursday, April 18, 1912

Rain lashed the decks of the _Carpathia _as she drew slowly into New York Harbor on Thursday evening. It was hardly the triumphant arrival they'd all been expecting. This was supposed to be a momentous occasion: the completion of _Titanic_'s maiden voyage, the first crossing of the world's largest and most luxurious ship. There had even been talk that she would reach America on Tuesday night instead of the scheduled Wednesday arrival time. And now…now the _Titanic _lay at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, some two miles deep, buried in eternal blackness. She would remain there for the rest of eternity, not to be seen again by human eyes until the discovery of her wreckage over seventy years later.

_Titanic _was gone but by no means would she be forgotten. Already people were preparing inquiries, intending to get to the bottom of the disaster. Many uncomfortable questions would be raised: why had the "unsinkable" ship's watertight construction failed? Why were there not enough lifeboats for everyone aboard? Why had she been steaming at full speed into an ice field? Why were some of the boats launched only half-full? Why had only one boat gone back to the site of the wreck to pick up survivors?

Things were about to change. New safety regulations would be put in place. There would be enough boats for all souls aboard every ship on the sea. Lifeboat drills would be enforced for every vessel so that the confusion and panic that had overrun the _Titanic _in her final moments could possibly be avoided in the future. An ice patrol would be sent into the North Atlantic to shepherd icebergs away from steamship traffic. Wireless operations would become mandatory twenty-four hours a day so that a distress signal wouldn't go unnoticed, as _Titanic_'s had.

But it would come to more than that. The _Titanic _marked the end of an era. The class distinctions of the time, which had already been under some strain, were now crumbling in the wake of the disaster. The idea that having money and wealth could buy one everything was thrown into serious doubt. After all, it hadn't saved many of the men in first class. But perhaps most noticeably, the _Titanic _shook the very foundations of mankind's confidence. No longer would men be so sure of themselves. Never again would humans put such unwavering faith in technology. There would never be another "unsinkable" ship.

But none of this mattered to Hinrik, not at the moment. Right now all he cared about was that his world had been irrevocably changed, and he wasn't sure what he was going to do about it, or even if anything could be done. He, Astrid, and Riley were standing on the Boat Deck of the _Carpathia_, staring up in companionable silence at the Statue of Liberty as the ship steamed past it. The rain didn't bother them. Indeed, after what they'd been through Hinrik doubted any minor discomfort would ever bother him again. He shifted a little on his crutch and winced in pain. His leg wasn't looking any better. The ship's doctor said he thought the leg would have to come off when they reached shore. Hinrik didn't much like this idea, but he tried to look at it as a minor inconvenience, something he'd have to overcome. Besides, he had much more pressing matters to deal with.

Astrid might have been reading his mind, for she looked up at him and asked, "So what happens now?"

Hinrik turned his head to look at her and smiled faintly, squeezing her hand a little. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "I suppose we try to put our lives back together."

"Your leg?" Astrid inquired, looking down at the bandaged limb.

Hinrik shook his head. "It'll probably have to be removed. I guess I could get a prosthetic, though."

Astrid frowned but didn't press the issue. Hinrik then turned to Riley, who stood just far enough away to give the couple their space but close enough to be reached. "Where will you go when we dock?" he asked.

Riley shrugged. "No idea," she replied with the barest hint of sadness in her voice. "Apart from my mother in England, Terry was the only family I had. I'd planned on going wherever he went, but now…" She trailed off.

"Well, why don't you come with us?" Hinrik offered. "If you have no place to go, you can stay with my mother, Astrid, and me, at least until you find something that suits you. I promise you'll be welcome."

Riley smiled weakly. "That's very kind of you, Hinrik. Thank you." Then she smirked at Astrid and added teasingly, "You found a good one, Astrid. Hang on to him."

Astrid giggled and wrapped her arms around Hinrik. "I plan to." Hinrik grinned.

There was a moment's pause. Astrid's smile slowly faded and she finally spoke the thought that had been plaguing her ever since Hinrik had sent Heather away Monday morning.

"Hinrik," she said hesitantly, "what are you going to do about…your mother?"

The question was vague but Hinrik didn't ask for clarification. He didn't need it. He sighed and admitted, "I don't know. I guess I'll figure out something. With Dad gone, the business belongs to me, so…maybe I can work something out." He shrugged. "I'm trying not to worry about it. What will happen will happen, and in the end I can only hope for the best. I'll do what I can to save her, but if I can't then I'll settle for making her last years the happiest they can be." He smiled sadly and pulled her into a one-armed embrace. "That's where you come in, Astrid. I have a funny feeling that Mother is going to just love you. I think she'll be happy to meet you, and happier still if you decide to…stick around."

"Stick around?" Astrid repeated, frowning up at him. "What exactly does that mean?"

Hinrik didn't answer immediately. He seemed to be considering something. Astrid noticed that his ears had gone red, though. She supposed that could have been a result of exposure to the cold rain, but…

Hinrik took a deep breath to calm himself and said, "I'll swim and sail on savage seas with ne'er a fear of drowning…"

Astrid blinked in confusion. Why was he reciting the lyrics to that song? He wasn't even singing, he was just speaking the words like he was…

Wait…

"…and gladly ride the waves of life…"

Astrid's heart seemed to stop beating as Hinrik turned, set the crutch aside, and dropped to one knee, holding both of her hands in his. He looked up at her, and she gazed into his eyes. There was a world of emotions in those shining green orbs: she saw fear and nervousness, but they were overwhelmed by pure love and adoration.

Her jaw dropped open as he concluded, "…if you will marry me, Astrid."

For a long moment she simply stared down at him, too stunned to do more than gape at him. And then a smile broke across her face and she gasped, "Yes…yes, I will."

Hinrik beamed up at her, rising unsteadily to his feet and pulling her into an embrace that almost knocked the wind out of her. But she relished it, hugging him back and burying her face in his neck, not even bothering to stop the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes.

"I love you, Astrid," Hinrik murmured.

"I love you too, Hinrik," Astrid replied, her voice rather thick.

They pulled apart just far enough to kiss. His hands held her body gently yet firmly against his own, while hers played in his hair. Riley watched all this with a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. For half a second she considered making a joke, maybe a snide little "Get a room, guys," but she decided against it. After all they'd suffered, they deserved this moment together.

After a minute they broke apart and grinned at each other. Hinrik was the first to break the silence between them. "I…I don't know if you'd want it," he said hesitantly. "I would more than understand if you don't. But I still have the ring I bought for Heather. Would you…like to try it on?"

Astrid considered this for a second. Her first thought was to tell him to hurl the thing into the harbor and let it be lost forever. But she stopped herself. A ring was a ring, she reasoned. It didn't matter that he'd bought it for Heather. He didn't love Heather. He never had. He loved her, Astrid, and she knew it. So she smiled and replied, "Sure."

Hinrik sighed in relief and dug into the coat pocket for the ring. His smile slipped and a frown clouded his features. "What the…" He pulled his hand back out and gasped, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping.

"Holy cow!" Riley yelped, taking a step closer to gawk. Even Astrid couldn't contain her surprise, gaping down at Hinrik's outstretched hand.

He was holding an assortment of fine jewelry. There was a golden necklace, several rings, an emerald brooch, a string of pearls, an elegant hair comb, and a silver chain with a beautiful pendant hanging from it.

It was this last piece that Hinrik recognized. "These are Heather's," he said. "How did they end up in my coat…?"

He and Astrid looked at each other and answered the question together, "Her father!"

"Grant put the coat on me before he pushed me into the lifeboat," Hinrik recalled. "He must have gone back to her room and grabbed some of her jewelry."

He dug back into the pockets again and discovered even more jewelry, along with several thick stacks of bills. Altogether he was carrying a small fortune in his pockets. "Well, that certainly explains why the coat felt so heavy," Hinrik remarked. "I have to admit, I had wondered about that. I just figured it was a heavier fabric."

"Whoa…" Riley breathed. She'd never seen so much money before in her life and the sight was rather breathtaking.

It was Astrid who had the idea. Looking up at Hinrik she said, "Well…I think we just found the solution to your mother's money problem."

Hinrik looked at her and considered. "Well…I guess Grant did put the coat on me…I can hardly be accused of stealing it."

"Yeah!" Riley said, catching on. "It was totally a gift from your ex-future-father-in-law! Nothing dishonest about it!"

Hinrik smiled and slipped the jewels and money back into his pockets, glancing around to make sure no one else had seen it. Then he pulled out a single ring and presented it to Astrid. "Milady?" he said, and grinning, Astrid held out her left hand. Hinrik slid the beautiful diamond ring onto her finger and let out a single breathless laugh when it fit perfectly.

"I'll take that as a good omen," Astrid remarked, gazing down at the ring, sparkling despite the gloomy weather.

"It's a great omen," Hinrik confirmed, taking her into his arms. "The best." He kissed her again and added, "We're going to be all right. All of us. Somehow, someway, everything's going to work itself out. Trust me."

Astrid turned to look at the city that lay before them. A crowd had gathered, made up of people anxiously waiting to hear news about what had happened when the _Titanic _went down. There would be newspaper reporters and investigators, and there would be family and loved ones of survivors and victims alike, all clamoring to be the first to hear anything new. They would soon be among that throng, fighting their way through the masses in an attempt to get somewhere warm and quiet. There would be questions to answer, problems to work out, options to consider. There would be grieving and mourning, and they would be haunted by nightmares for years to come.

But all that could wait for a minute or two longer. For now, in this single moment, she was Astrid Hofferson, engaged to marry Hinrik Haddock, and she was the happiest woman in the world.

Astrid looked back at Hinrik. She smiled and brushed a hand against his cheek. "I trust you."

She took his hand and then grabbed Riley's with her other, and together the three friends prepared to disembark.

**A/N: The End! **

**Wow! This is officially the longest story I've ever written. The complete draft stands at 86 pages. I cannot tell you how much that excites me! **

**If you're interested in more of my work, feel free to check out my other stories. I've got another HTTYD crossover, this one with Disney's **_**The Little Mermaid**_**. It's called **_**Out of the Sea**_**. Hiccup is Ariel, Astrid is Eric, Toothless is Flounder (sort of), and Excellinor (from the books) is Ursula. There's also a collection of one-shots called **_**Hiccup's Undersea Adventures**_**, which are all placed within the same AU as **_**Out of the Sea**_**. There is also a sequel in the works. In addition, I have a collection of HTTYD one-shots, as well as a separate one-shot of Hiccup singing "Let It Go" from Disney's **_**Frozen**_**. Feel free to take a look! I hope you enjoy them. :) **

**Thank you all so much for all your reviews and kind words! I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this story! One last thank you to UnderTheWillowTrees for your kind permission to borrow a few elements of your **_**Titanic **_**stories. I hope you like the end result as much as I do. **


End file.
